


Misguided Trust

by br00ke82cool94



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 30
Words: 69,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26675596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/br00ke82cool94/pseuds/br00ke82cool94
Summary: The Fire Nation hosts The Hunger Games to assert their power over the other nations.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar), Sokka/Ty Lee (Avatar)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 22





	1. 1

1  


The Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes participated for years, sacrificing their young to participate in the Fire Nation’s theatrics. After waging war for years, Fire Lord Ozai sought to give his army a rest. Imperial pursuits gained land and wealth, but he wanted more. He wanted the world’s respect. He promised to withhold his army from the other nations for each year they sent their tributes—two benders and two non-benders—to the Capitol City for The Hunger Games.  
Katara stepped off the train, entering the dry heat first among their group. As crowds decked in red cheered, thrilled to catch the first glimpse of this year’s tributes, a soldier shackled her wrists and led her to the tower. She couldn’t comprehend the joy throughout the audience. They seemed to admire her and they celebrated her arrival. However, they would soon place bets on when and how she would die. They would root for the Fire Nation volunteer to burn her. No one in the crowd cared about Katara, they just thought themselves stronger at her expense.  


As the soldier led her to the door, she checked over her shoulder to make sure her brother, Sokka, followed her. They chained him too, along with the seven other tributes, for this parade. He basked in the cheers, smiling and raising his tied hands to the rhythm of their yells. He knew just as well as Katara that they were measuring him, finding grim joy in how their volunteers would destroy him. However, he knew this would be one of the few times he heard their cheers. He’d take the fool’s gold. Knowing nothing better was to come, he wanted to enjoy what he could.  


Aang trailed behind the other tributes. Most nations selected their four fighters at random; however, he was the last from the Air nomads. The Fire Nation eliminated his entire culture and now planned on eviscerating the last air bender for their entertainment. He knew he could save the others in front of him. They were about to begin their training week, which gave some time to befriend the other tributes and unite them against the Fire Nation. He intended on ending the Games and the war for good.  
Inside the tower, soldiers lined up to block any exit or exploration. Despite the fanfare outside, the teenagers were their nations’ representatives in a hundred-year war. They’d be kept alive until the Games begun, but there would be no love lost before then. The first soldier from the train led the group to a large screen, instructing them to sit in the arranged chairs. The crowds outside pivoted from the train platform to the stage in the city square. While the victim nations sent tributes shrouded in tragedy and desperation, the Fire Nation handpicked its fighters. Their selection ceremony warranted the large crowds and celebration, given that it announced the four strongest teenagers who dedicated themselves to the glory of their country. While the square filled with music, food, and patriotic fervor, the tributes watched from their tower. This provided them with a glimpse of the Games before they even begun—a glimpse into their rigged nature, into the murderous instinct of their competitors.  


Fire Lord Ozai took the stage, sending the people to their knees in reverence. Following their pledge of allegiance, he began his annual message—in part to honor the Games’ tradition, and to also explain the upcoming struggle to the tributes—boasting about the Fire Nation’s strength. “Good evening. Thank you all for joining us as we announce our volunteers for this year’s Hunger Games, and begin another glorious battle in this war.  


“As you know, we have been at war for a century now, pursuing a better and more unified world. The Air Nomads refused to listen, and we ensured they could not corrupt the rest of the nations. Now, we sit close to the capital cities in the Water Tribes and Earth Kingdom. In the spirit of peace, however, we created The Hunger Games to exchange thousands of soldiers’ deaths for a few teenagers. This year, an air bender joins the fight, representing a lost people in the Arena. Our Water Tribe tributes range from peasants to royalty, including the first volunteer outside of our nation. The Earth Kingdom sent us civilians of their holdout cities along with our colonies, providing us with great diversity among our tributes.”  


As Ozai announced the first volunteer, the tributes looked throughout the two rows facing the screen. Female water benders were known to heal other water tributes during some games, so maybe one volunteered out of humanitarian motivations this year. The two boys looked scrappy, untrained, and awkward. Unlikely either one of them volunteered because they must understand the death march ahead of them. Before they could reason among themselves whether Katara or Yue volunteered, Ozai moved to discuss the Fire Nation volunteers. The Hunger Games sought to demonstrate the supremacy of fire—they wanted to humiliate the other elements and fighting styles and embarrass them for future battles. Each Fire Nation tribute applied for the Games and had to demonstrate immense patriotism, skill, and desire to win. They were young killers, trained for this microcosm of war.  


The camera panned to the front row of academy students. Ozai discussed the hope each applicant possessed, and how those unselected now joined the ranks of military leadership. Nearing the end of his speech, a hand slowly raised among the group, “Our first volunteer,” he announced, “please make your way to the stage.” She moved without care, unfazed by the cheers, the honor of her selection, or even her upcoming death. Once she took her place next to Ozai, the other non-bending volunteer followed to the stage, walking with a bounce, she seemed to find joy in the celebration.  


“Welcome Mai and Ty-Lee,” he signaled for the nation to bow to them, “Friends of castle, these women demonstrated loyalty beyond compare for the Fire Nation. They are skilled fighters and take no mercy. I am confident they will not only instill fear in the Arena, but even among you all. I am proud to announce their devotion to the war and our nation.” Mai, the first volunteer, continued to the chair upstage unfazed. She seemed to lead Ty-Lee, and the two took their seats to watch the remainder of the ceremony. While Ozai spoke about his pride in them, Mai knew the purpose of non-bending volunteers. She was to serve the benders and die before their finale. Once the audience understood the supremacy of the Fire Nation’s combat tradition, she must make way for the element. At least it gave her something new to do.  


The next two volunteers represented the most skilled fire benders in the nation. Each year, the bending volunteers pursued victory with ruthless determination. Multiple Games ended in an Agni Kai between the two, sometimes lasting a full day. This year, Ozai spoke with a new confidence, signaling that the volunteers were even more dangerous. He held back an excitement when announcing them: “I expect our next volunteers to bring honor to the Fire Nation. Not only did I train them myself, but I anticipate one to succeed me on the throne. Please bow to the Crown Prince and Princess, Zuko and Azula!”  


Joining their father on stage, the siblings stood in contrast to each other. Azula took her father’s hand with a knowing confidence that she would succeed him and end the Games to wage a brutal war. The Arena would be her debut, a place for her to earn the fear and respect from the entire nation. Zuko, however, stood tall and independent. The tributes watching remotely feared him, understanding his posture as confidence and lethal patriotism. Mai, who knew him best, knew from the back of the stage that this was not the case. Despite what Ozai announced, she knew Zuko was the first tribute from the Fire Nation.


	2. 2

**2**

“Zuko, you must play along,” Uncle Iroh gripped his nephew’s soldiers, trying to instill parting wisdom and give him a purpose to sustain him, “No one knows why you’re fighting, and it’s best you keep it to your heart. Victory does not come from making enemies. You must keep the others on your side until you can let Azula die.”

Backstage, each volunteer was given a few minutes in private with a loved one. While Ozai coached Azula one last time, Zuko yelled at his uncle, “He’s banishing me in front of the whole world! You know Azula is stronger than me, and she won’t hesitate to kill me for our father’s pride. Uncle, there must be some way for me to get out of this. How can he justify sending both of his heirs into a death match?”

“You know his endgame. Let’s not waste our time together worrying about your father. This is a chance for you to shape your destiny, Zuko. Be careful in training. If you exert all your anger this week, you’ll be an early target for everyone as soon as the Games begin. You must play the long game here and outlast your sister,” Iroh tried to calm himself, taking a few moments to breathe; he knew Zuko possessed the potential to persist longer in the Arena. His nephew was angry at the world and wanting a chance to prove himself better than Ozai thought. “Don’t focus on anyone else. If you stay true to yourself and play to survive instead of slaughter, you’ll be fine. I believe in you.”

Having said good-bye to loved ones, the volunteers joined the tributes. As they gathered around a banquet table, each nation kept to their tributes. They all wanted to maintain some semblance of home, safety, for as long as they could. Sokka, cornered between his sister and the boy from the Northern Water Tribe, stared as the Fire Nation volunteers walked with pride to the head of the table, “They know this is rigged in their favor,” he whispered to Katara while working on a drumstick, “I doubt they even think of us as even matches in the fight.”

“What does it matter what they think of us? You know being evil doesn’t give them any high ground over us,” she questioned, trying to convince herself they had a chance, that one of them would survive.

Sokka didn’t believe her, he maintained realism in the face of death, refusing to let positive thinking shield him from his circumstances, “You heard the Fire Lord, they’re the best trained in the nation. You know how to splash around, and I don’t think that’s anywhere close to their level.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not the only water bender, and I have a week to learn, isn’t it? You can’t just resign yourself to Ozai’s rhetoric.” She leaned over her brother, trying to greet the boy from the North, “I’m Katara, and this is Sokka!” She set her fork down to wave, “You’re from the North, right? Did you ever train under one of the water bending masters?”

“My name is Hotah, it’s good to meet you two,” He kept his hands in his lap, too nervous to eat. He knew one of them volunteered, which terrified him more than the Fire Nation volunteers did for the moment. He understood the fire benders’ aggression, but the idea that someone from the Water Tribe left their community and sought to kill made no sense. One of them had to be a monster, waiting for permission to unleash their wrath on others. “I’ve been training under Master Pakku for about a year now. I was supposed to start a position at our second gate next month. Are you a healer, Katara?”

She stood up straighter, mustering up the pride she still had to appear more trained than what she was, “I’ve been practicing my defensive bending, too. We don’t have healers in the South.”

“Women fight in the South?” Hotah reached for his first bite from his plate, unsure if he should be comforted or unsettled by the backwardness of his counterparts. His heart fell at the thought of not being able to align with a healer, but maybe it was good to tag-team with another bender.

“I’m sorry? Are women not allowed to train as water benders in your tribe?”

“Katara, relax” Sokka finally interjected from the middle, “We have more important things to worry about rather than if girls can try to throw water at guys or not. Let’s not argue with the only other people from the Water Tribe here, alright?” They needed an alliance of some kind. He and his sister could protect themselves for the most part, but there was safety in numbers. If they could at least train and begin the games with two others, then they had a better chance of making it past day one in the Arena. “Hotah, who else came with you? It’s good to meet others from the Water Tribe, y’know, if you forget about the circumstances at hand.”

“This is Princess Yue,” he turned around to tap her arm, signaling her that the others wanted to forge some unity, “We got to know each other on the ship ride to the Fire Nation.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you two,” Yue spoke softly, intimidated by their forwardness so early in the Games, “How was your Reaping? I hear one of you volunteered? That’s awfully brave.”

Sokka cursed Ozai for announcing a volunteer from the Water Tribe. One of the few dignities afforded to the nations was anonymity in the Reaping. While their deaths were broadcast to the world, at least no one had to watch their heart fall when they were called on to sacrifice themselves. He wanted to keep as much anonymity for him and his sister as he could. If people didn’t know they were siblings, they could avoid the large target close allies draw. If people didn’t know one of them volunteered, they could hide under the assumption the Southern Water Tribe only sent underfed and undertrained tributes. If people knew them, though, they became more formidable and larger targets. He didn’t know how to respond to her direct question.

“Sokka volunteered!” Katara agreed to conceal their relation to each other, but she also knew they couldn’t pretend like Sokka didn’t volunteer. Once Ozai told the world, it was a simple process of elimination among the four from the Water Tribe. She figured it was better to own up to it.

As Yue’s eyes widened in admiration, Hotah shifted in his seat, trying to create what distance he could from the willing killer. “I—uh, yeah, I volunteered,” Sokka began to explain, “All of our men left for war, and since you guys have sent so many tributes to cover for the lack of teenagers in the South, it was starting to look like a kid would get reaped. We had some turn eleven this year, and it’s not right for the Fire Nation to give them a death sentence.”

No one turned eleven that year in the Southern Water Tribe. Had he not volunteered, the second non-bending tribute would’ve come from the North, and Sokka would be alive. The South sent so few tributes that no one would question it. However, Katara was reaped. He knew only of them could survive if he went with her, but he couldn’t let her go in to the Arena alone. Katara trusted people and she took too much confidence in her limited water bending. Sokka volunteered to fight alongside her and try to give her a better chance to make it out alive.

“That’s so courageous,” Yue continued, impressed by his devotion to protecting his community, even at the risk of his own life.

He felt his face warm and he turned to face the food in front of him, “It’s just the right thing to do, I wouldn’t call it courageous.”

As Sokka gushed over Yue, Katara began their work. She needed to learn as much from Hotah as she could in a week, and the four of them needed to support each other in training. She could hear some of the Earth Kingdom tributes sliding insults to Mai and Ty-Lee down the table. While they rehashed a century of war with each other, she suggested a Water Tribe alliance. They could train together and help the group look appealing to sponsors. In her eyes, they each could play different characters for the Fire Nation. Giving them a show could garner empathy, which could translate to food and medicine in the Arena.

While the group tried to figure out using Yue’s royalty to their advantage, conflict began to erupt. Suki, a non-bender from the Earth Kingdom, refused to gush with gratitude at the food the Fire Nation so kindly gave the tributes before the Games. As everyone else around her took what they could get, she leaned toward the boy beside her, Haru, trying to test what the soldiers would and wouldn’t do before sending the kids into the Arena.

“Why do you think they go through such trouble to feed us and parade us around, when they plan on killing us?” Coy, she spoke just loud enough to ensure the crown prince and princess could hear her, “I mean, it’s not like they gave my village a last meal before pummeling it into the ground. Did they bring a traveling acting troupe to your town before trying to colonize it?” She noticed Azula had no care about what she said. Assured in her place in the final two, she couldn’t be bothered by Suki’s critiques of Fire Nation foreign policy. “Haru, right? Don’t you think if we refused to participate in their performance, they’d have to explain why they stopped using their hemorrhaging military against the world?”

Haru picked at his food, watching the soldiers stationed throughout the room, and he tried to shirk her questions. He knew she was baiting the volunteers into starting the fight early. She was right, but he didn’t know if he should take part in her stance against the Games. Imperial troops already surrounded his town, and he didn’t want to give the Fire Lord any reason to seize the town or hurt his family.

“I mean, surely, there’s a reason they now have teenagers fight their battles. I can only imagine this is some farce, Zuko could probably testify to this, right? That your military needed a relief, so your father would rather create a cruel show to entertain his people?” Azula turned her nose at Suki, but Zuko grew tense with every taunt. She knew she hit a nerve, so she kept digging—asking Haru how depraved the Fire Nation citizens must be, if he thought Ozai was good for his word and would pay victors from other nations if they won.

Zuko leaped from his seat, leaning his whole weight over the table to intervene between Suki and Haru, “No one cares what a dead girl thinks! It was the Earth Kingdom that agreed to the Games in the first place, so maybe you should ask the king why he thinks so low of your life to send you here—” Soldiers rushed in, pulling Suki from the table and taking Zuko’s hands to stop him from bending. They relied on the pageantry of training week to ensure the citizens supported The Hunger Games, and rushed Suki to her dorm for the remainder of the evening to silence her from quelling any unrest.

With her departure, Admiral Zhao walked in, replacing her spirit with a calculating calmness. As Head Gamemaker, he knew her personality could create drama for the week, and he could turn sponsors against her without much effort. He waited for silence to sweep the room, then began: “Welcome, honored guests of the Fire Nation. I hope she didn’t ruin your dinner, please continue to eat and enjoy,” Zhao looked down the table, noticing many of the tributes didn’t recognize him, “I am Admiral Zhao, but you’ll know me in my role as Head Gamemaker. I’ve designed your Arena, but that’s not today’s concern. Tomorrow you all start training, and I want to advise you all to use this time to hone in on your strengths, figure out who you’ll be fighting in a week, and prepare for your private session with my team and your interview. I look forward to seeing how this group fares. Get some rest before you start tomorrow.”


	3. 3

**3**

“Better wake up, Zuzu,” Azula stood over him, grinning as he struggled to wake up after a restless night, “You have a reputation to fix in front of the rest of the tributes. I’m sure you don’t want them to think you’re undignified _and_ a sloppy fire bender.” She moved away from him to raise the blinds shielding his windows. Ozai made sure she knew training was meant to intimidate the tributes. Her and Zuko were to demonstrate their fire bending, not practice new skills or learn. While others struggled, they must appear perfect.

The Fire Nation teenagers made their way to the waiting room first. The four of them stood together waiting for Zhao to open the gym for the day. Ty-Lee dug her toes into the floor, avoiding eye contact with her friends, “So I guess now is as good a time as any to strategize?” She knew things were about to change between the people she once considered her best friends. Any of the four of them could win, but not all of them. She struggled to think past the final four, the idea of killing a friend didn’t sit well with her soul. It’d be better to focus on how to get to the final four, instead of getting out of it for now.

“You really think we have much to strategize about?” Mai sighed, “You saw the tributes last night—even the Avatar looks scrawny. I don’t think many of them will put up a big fight or anything.” Her father served as a gamemaker, despite recusing himself this year not to privilege Mai. She knew how the Games worked and how it only took a day or two for the gamemakers to figure out who would be a threat for the most part. To Mai, there was nothing to worry about now. She could sit on the sidelines and watch for the day before any of them talked strategy.

“We’ll start planning at lunch today,” Azula thought both Ty-Lee and Mai lacked the proper outlook on the situation, “We all need to figure out what this year’s crop is like, what their strengths and weaknesses are, and how we’ll exploit that. We can’t strategize until we know them.”

Before Zuko could pitch in, the tributes began filing in. He held his thoughts, deciding Uncle was probably right and that he should keep things close to himself. At this point, he had no reason to trust childhood friends and his sister any more than he trusted the tributes. Besides, even though everyone believed him to be a volunteer, he began to think he had more in common with the other tributes—he wanted to end the Games, instead of glorify the Fire Nation.

Suki and Toph arrived next, but they kept their distance from the volunteers. Suki stood tall against their glares, acting as if nothing out of the ordinary happened the evening before. She raised on her toes, trying to glance past the window over the gym door, “I don’t see anything. I’m betting it’s an open space to practice bending, though. What do you think they have fans?”

Toph never watched the Games—her parents believed her too fragile to listen to murder. Even now, she was surprised they hadn’t bought her out of the games or found a volunteer to replace her. Until her private session with the gamemakers, Toph planned to continue to act like their daughter—weak, blind, and terrified—but she found some joy in getting to fight once the Games begun. “Do they normally have weapons for non-benders? My parents kept me away from all screenings of anything with the Games.”

“You mean you’ve never watched them? Do you have an idea of what they’re like?” Suki stopped worrying about her fans, she could adapt. However, she couldn’t believe a twelve-year-old was walking toward her death, unsure of what to expect. Could ignorance be better? Everyone knew how rigged the Games were in favor of the Fire Nation. They hosted eight Games at this point, and tributes only won twice—both times they were older and experienced benders.

“Haru and Jet filled me in on the general premise on the train,” they didn’t sound too different from Earth Rumble VI, except for the part about only one survivor. “The Games seem cruel, but nothing new for the Fire Nation. They have to give all of us some chance, so why wouldn’t they have fans for you?” Jet spent an hour trying to explain to her all the ways they advantaged not only the volunteers, but especially the fire benders, each year. Toph figured he exaggerated, no one wants to watch a predictable fight, even if they’re rooting for the winner. She knew, no matter how much the gamemakers pulled against her, she could give the royal siblings a challenge. She just couldn’t let them know for another week.

The remainder of the tributes staggered in, still trying to wake up from their two hours of sleep the night before. Aang rolled in last, just minutes before Zhao opened the gym for the group. He gravitated to the Southern Water Tribe representatives, hoping that they were nice, solely because they came from a neighboring nation. He had a gut feeling about Katara, maybe she would be like him and want to abolish the Games from within. He tried to fall into step with them as Zhao led the gym tour—explaining how each corner provided space for bending practice and sparring and the center hosted a plethora of weapons for everyone to try. Each time Aang got close to the duo, Sokka picked up his pace, as if he devoted himself the Water Tribe alliance and refused to hear from anyone else.

“Get comfortable here,” Zhao began to wrap up his tour, “While you can’t incapacitate each other here, anything else goes. Regardless of your bending, you can use each training platform and learn how to take a hit before you face the real ones. Feel free to get to know each other. You don’t want to be the only one without an alliance. Just know that we’ll be watching you as you train. I’ll come back down when you break for lunch. Good luck.”

Katara followed Hotah to the water bending corner, exiling Aang for the next few hours as she tried to cram a year’s worth of teaching. Separated from his sister, Sokka made his way to the center of the gym to examine the weapons selection. They had a boomerang, which tempted him because he knew he could perfect a skill he already had. But it was probably best to diversify. He couldn’t count on them providing a boomerang in the Arena, let along him getting it early in the Games. Another tribute walked up behind him, leering over his shoulder to select his weapon.

“You don’t happen to see hook swords, do you?” Jet slid past Sokka to get on his knees and look below some of the equipment, praying they had his weapon of choice. “I’m not seeing any. Do they have your weapon?”

The question sounded like a trap, as if the Earth Kingdom boy sought to figure out how Sokka fought and how he could play that against him, “No,” he decided, “I guess they’re trying to disadvantage us from the beginning.”

“You’re probably right,” he signaled to the benders in all four corners of the gym, “They’re giving half of us a full week to perfect what they know, and leaving the rest of us to figure out how to survive at the last minute,” he signed and chose a war hammer for his practice. Sokka, watching his selection grabbed an axe, ready to work through close combat next to him. “What’s your name? You’re one of the Southern tributes, huh?”

Walking toward the dummies together, Sokka introduced himself, following Katara’s decision from last night, “I’m Sokka. Yeah, Katara and I are some of the first from our tribe to come to this. A few of the kids qualified for the reaping this year, so they increased our representation,” he rolled his soldiers, trying to figure out how to wield an axe as he spoke, “I volunteered so we didn’t send a child to this hell.”

“Good guy,” and one to be suspicious of—no one acted out of kindness or humanitarian devotion in Jet’s mind. Everyone was self-interested, and Sokka saw something to gain from the Games, what a bold thought for a non-bender. “I go by Jet. The Fire Nation killed my family a few years ago, so I’m planning to use this time to exact my revenge on them.”

“You think you’ll be the victor?” He hid his intimidation with an attack to the dummy’s torso. He struggled to aim, and whacked it with his blade more than he sliced it. Maybe he shouldn’t worry too much about people knowing he’s the volunteer—until he started practicing with the boomerang, no one would take him seriously in combat.

“No, the Fire Lord is sending his heirs in this year,” Jet, unlike Sokka, managed to land a formidable blow to his dummy, “It doesn’t matter how hard any of us fight, none of us will win,” he lowered his voice, leaning closer to Sokka, “I plan on turning this week against the gamemakers.”

“What?”

“They’re arming us and giving us near limitless time to practice. They’re dumb to think we couldn’t take them if we wanted to,” he patted Sokka’s shoulder before pivoting to focus on the dummy once more, “Plus, if you can figure out how to wield that axe we could start gaining strength in numbers. Don’t you agree?”

Sokka looked up to the gamemakers’ suite in the wall above them, “I don’t know,” he avoided looking at Jet and instead focused on his axe, “It seems like a lot could go wrong, too many variables.” He thought everyone—maybe excluding the Fire Nation volunteers—would love to fight the gamemakers instead of each other. But Jet didn’t seem to think through the plan too well. He placed a lot of blind trust in Sokka, not knowing a single thing about him for sure. Jet, in his mind, was about to start more trouble for the tributes than the good he set out to do.

The tributes split up for lunch—some eating alone, others trying to get to know potential allies—leaving the volunteers with space to talk amongst themselves. Azula led the group to the courtyard, sitting on the fountain’s ledge for the break. While Ty-Lee watched her with anticipation, ready to figure out their plan forward, Zuko seemed more fascinated with the turtle ducks than anything else. He didn’t take training seriously; Azula watched him struggle to produce lightening all morning, making a fool of himself. It would be his fault when some Water Tribe peasant or the air bender killed him.

“I can’t believe it’s a full week of this,” Mai plopped down onto the grass next to Ty-Lee, “I mean, surely, they don’t need a full week to figure out how to design the Arena for this group.”

“You should know more than anyone, Mai, that this week is for the citizens,” Azula quipped, “None of the tributes can learn to survive in a week, but this gives the Fire Nation time to energize the people and strengthen their patriotism. Maybe you should spend the time trying to find a personality for your interview.”

“Whatever.”

Before Azula grew any more impatient, Zuko broke his gaze to the turtle ducks and turned to the group, “The Avatar seems to only bend air right now. It’d be good to try to keep him away from the other benders for the week.”

“The other benders seemed so weak though,” Ty-Lee pitched in, noting how only Haru and Hotah seemed to have any real training, “The two girls barely knew what they were doing today in their corners.”

“It’s better that the Avatar learns nothing, still. I don’t care if Toph could only teach him to throw a pebble, he should be as ignorant as possible before we go into the Arena.”

Azula laughed, condescending to her brother’s paranoia, “Maybe if you’re so afraid of a frozen air-bender you should focus on your own bending, Zuzu. You don’t think you could take him?”

“I think he has the added benefit of being the Avatar, Azula, and I don’t think that’s something we should overlook. Uncle told me Avatars can talk to the previous ones, which could give him access to thousands of masters at any point during the Games.”

Mai broke her silence, wanting to stop talking about the benders, “Suki, the girl from dinner, seems to have an edge.” Mai spent her morning sitting against the wall, watching the others try out different weapons against stuffed dummies: only Suki and Jet seemed to know what they were doing, “She knows what she’s doing, and I don’t like her confidence. She’s one we should keep an eye on her this week.”

“What’d you think about the boy?” Zuko sensed something troublesome about Jet, he seemed too comfortable in the gym. More than self-assured, he looked like he thought the Games were about him—like he had a chance.

“Reckless.”

Azula chipped in, “We’ll just have to knock their confidence down a bit.” She turned to Ty-Lee, “Maybe you can see if Suki will spar with you tomorrow. I doubt she could last that long against you.” She stood from the fountain, figuring their break was near over, “Zuko, I think you should try to get to know Jet. Both of you brood too much, maybe there’s an in there for you to get inside his head.”


	4. 4

The tower reserved floors for each nations’ tributes, separating them from each other after dinner while allowing them to continue speaking with others from home. The Water Tribe representatives got along well with each other. Hotah and Katara needed each other to practice their water bending, and Yue took well to Sokka’s bravery. They lacked the level of trust in each other the Fire Nation’s volunteers possessed, but they got along. There was enough mutual respect to form an alliance.

As they returned to the Water Tribe suite for the night, the group got comfortable in the common area. They tried to avoid each other while at dinner to throw off any suspicion that they worked together any more than required. While Katara wanted to share her impressions from Aang and hear what they thought about including the Avatar in their alliance, Sokka instead insisted on forging an interview strategy. They had a day to build a personality to win the favor of the Fire Nation, and five to figure out if Aang was a potential ally. Plus, Sokka still wasn’t sure how he felt about the Avatar playing in The Hunger Games. The gamemakers surely wouldn’t treat his allies too kindly.

Sokka rolled out a piece of parchment he started brainstorming on the night before. The most successful tributes from the Water Tribe played into the sympathy some Fire Nation citizens held for what they thought was a backwards and undeveloped nation. Pity seemed to draw in sponsorships—more so than bitterness or cowardice. However, he knew they were all above seeking pity. The Fire Nation couldn’t kill them and force them to wallow in submission to false narratives. “I started figuring out who we all can be tomorrow night. We gotta strike a balance between what they want us to be and who we really are, so let’s get to work.”

“I don’t see why we have to play a role for our interviews. I don’t want to pretend to be someone I’m not just so some fascists like me,” Yue shied away from his notes, unsure of what merit Sokka found in playing to the Fire Nation.

“It’s not so they like you,” he tried to explain his reasoning, “It’s so they give us medicine and food once we’re in the Arena. Wealthy citizens can sponsor tributes and send them gifts to help them during the Games—we want the gifts. Plus, the gamemakers keep the pulse on who their audience likes. They want to keep the Games entertaining, or else not even their people will support them. That’s how the weak kids make it far each year, they’re fan favorites, so the gamemakers keep nudging them along until it’s time for a fire bender to win. If we can make it that far, we have a better chance of winning, and going back home.”

Katara watched Sokka begin explaining the roles for each of them. He tried to honor who they really were and just exaggerate their characters as needed. She read while he spoke, examining how he wanted the Fire Nation to know of the Southern Water Tribe:

**_Katara:_**

  * _Persistent and brave—devoted to seeing her community find harmony_
  * _Only bender in the South—self-taught and resilient_
  * _Community—talk about helping Gran-gran deliver babies, teaching kids how to read—focus on how close our tribe is and your role within it, let them know that even though they tried to destroy us, you and everyone else are committed to preserving our culture and unity_
    * _(But don’t say they tried to destroy us)_
  * _Tone down the hope, you can’t get up there and be like “I hope the Fire Nation loses the war and we never see them again” that will just get us killed_
  * _Brave—talk about ice-dodging, coming so far from home to compete, be honest about your courage_



**_Sokka (Me!)_ **

  * _Wise and protective—leader back at home_
  * _Volunteer—get ahead of this, talk about wanting to shield the kids at home from the war as long as possible, emphasize our community_
  * _Decisive—appeal to their militancy with passion for strategy and pragmatism_
  * _Resourceful—Arena will be different from the South Pole, but I anticipate being adaptable and using my surroundings to my advantage_



“Since when are you wise?” She read ahead as Sokka was still explaining the balance between calm and timid to Yue and Hotah.

“Since Bato drew the Mark of the Wise on my forehead! C’mon, Katara, you were literally there!” Putting her comment past him, Sokka moved on to explain the character they all needed to hit, “We’re going to go out there tomorrow night, and Joo Dee will be ready to get us to tell the audience that we’re terrified, poor, and angry. They don’t know the Water Tribe.” He locked eyes with Yue, finally feeling as if he was one of the men of his tribe, fighting the Fire Nation however possible, “We’re adaptable, devoted to our community, and we don’t stand down from a fight; let’s show them who they’re messing with.

“Yue, you’re the princess. Joo Dee is going to try to contrast you to Princess Azula, so you should emphasize your spirituality and love. Azula’s a conniving bending prodigy, and the entire nation seems to fear her. Show them there’s another monarch—one who cares about her people and would sacrifice anything for their wellbeing. You’re going to be our character of love.

“Hotah, I think you should ground our group. This will be the first year the Water Tribe tributes demonstrate confidence. If we go in too hard, we’ll turn them against our nation. Instead of talking about how you were preparing to serve in the military, you’ll be our boy next door. You miss home, but you’re ready to make your parents proud; your master always told you to be adaptable and flow like the water, and this is the biggest challenge you’ve faced, stuff like that.

“Katara,” he felt weak now that he had to explain how the world would remember the Southern Water Tribe. The Fire Nation already took their mom, and now they wanted Katara. It was cruel. He didn’t understand how they could justify ripping apart families and making them sell themselves to a crowd to reap meager support; all Sokka knew was that he would die trying to protect Katara. “I think you should show them how persistent you are. You’ll be the strongest in the Arena this year, and everyone should know that. I’ve never seen anyone intimidate you, and you’re the bravest person I know. Don’t let them create a different image of you.”

This got too emotional. He couldn’t look at Katara to see her response, but instead fixed his eyes on his notes, “I’m sure Joo Dee will love the hair loopies. Anyway, I think I need to own that I’m the volunteer. I’ll focus on my role in the community after the men left. I don’t want to make it sound like the South was ravaged by the war, so I think I’ll talk about how I’ve been growing as a leader back home. I’ll relate my resourcefulness as a smaller part of the entire community’s resilience.”

“You’ve really thought through this,” Yue admired, “But how do we know they’ll take this confidence well? They could resent us for trying to appear strong against their oppression.”

Katara broke her silence, “It’s a chance we have to take. I don’t want their pity, so we’re not going to be the Water tributes they think they want,” She looked to Sokka, glad to work alongside him, “If everyone approves of their roles, let’s get to work.”

“You need to relax.”

“Mai, you know my father is trying to humiliate me before letting Azula kill me. How am I supposed to calm down?”

She leaned closer to him, wrapping her fingers around his as they looked over the Capitol City from their balcony, “Are you planning on letting her kill you?

“No,” he paused, looking toward her and struggling to sort through his anxieties, “But I know Zhao will turn the Arena against me, and I don’t know how to fight her and the Games.”

“Well, it sounds like you have a week to figure it out.”

“That’s all you have to say? Aren’t you nervous to enter the Arena? Why did you volunteer this year, if you knew Azula was too?”

Mai sighed, wishing Zuko would calm down so they could enjoy what otherwise was a peaceful night, “They don’t tell you who else they selected when they tell you were chosen. I didn’t know any of you guys were the other volunteers until a few days ago, and it’s not like the gamemakers would’ve done anything if I tried to withdraw my application.”

They spent hours into the night rehearsing, alternating who played Joo Dee, who wrote possible questions, who played the audience and took notes, and who perfected their stature. It seemed foolish at a certain point, other tributes would likely walk on stage unrehearsed. Most people throughout the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribe avoided watching the interviews—the Fire Nation only required that the other nations broadcast the training scores and Arena—only tributes’ families and the paranoid watched interviews. Sokka anticipated few of this year’s tributes worried about the Games in years past. Maybe Jet, but even then he wouldn’t rehearse a character; Jet was probably ready to fight through his interview. “Alright, Katara, you’re Joo Dee. Yue, let’s work on your answers, I’ll take notes, and Hotah, you can start brainstorming questions for Katara’s interview.”

The girls positioned themselves in the two chairs Sokka staged before the couch. Faking the interviewer’s brainwashed smile, Katara started: “Princess Yue, it’s an honor to have you join us today. Tell us, please, what’s surprised you most about our Capitol City since you arrived?”

“Well, this is the first time I’ve seen buildings made of brick, instead of ice,” She joked, turning to the fake audience of Hotah and Sokka for relief, “But in all honestly, I’ve been amazed by how much the people here revere their leaders. I’m so used to going on strolls back home and greeting all the different people I see, that I was shocked when everyone bowed before Azula and Zuko. I would hug people on the street, I had never seen this much reverence for royalty.”

“Wow,” Katara tried to mimic Joo Dee’s stunted emotions, which always seemed condescending and a little too nice, “You must have been close to the people of the Northern Water Tribe. Are you fighting for anyone in particular back home?”

Yue paused, debating whether or not to discuss her betrothed or the entire people. She wanted to be sincere, even if it sounded like a direct jab at the Fire Nation’s royal family, “I’m fighting for our entire tribe, Joo Dee. So many of our young ones have nightmares about the Reaping, and our benders now learn how to heal and fight within the Arena instead of learning about water bending as an art. I’m not above that fear, and I want them to know that I feel what they feel, and no one is exempt from the horrors of this war.”

“What can we expect from you in the Arena?”

“Sadly, I’m not a healer,” She struggled given that Yue still didn’t know how she was going to fight. Her parents and teachers raised her to be a leader, one grounded in peace and culture, none of that seemed to matter in the Games, “My father taught me a bit of archery growing up, and I’ve been practicing with a bow during training. I’m hoping I can keep my distance from the action and fight from afar.”

“That’s time,” Sokka stopped the mock interview and stood from the couch. “You need to speak to the audience, not Joo Dee. You’re direct—telling them Azula doesn’t love them the way you love your people, which I like. But if you’re gonna do that, you need to connect with the audience and make them feel something.” He handed her the parchment he wrote on while she spoke so she could review what worked and didn’t work. As she moved to the couch, Katara slid into the interviewee chair, while Hotah stepped up to be Joo Dee.

“Katara,” while he tried to get comfortable in the seat he read from his parchment, “I’ve heard you’re the last water bender from the Southern Water Tribe. Tell me more about that.”

She spoke to the audience, sitting tall and unfazed by the idea of a nation watching her, “I take a lot of pride in my bending. Even though I haven’t been able to learn from a master, I know I carry a piece of our culture in me. When I was a child, the last Fire Nation raid sought the last water bender, and my mother sacrificed herself to protect me. Every time I bend, I feel that weight—”

“Stop.”

“Sokka, you told me to be courageous. Why shouldn’t I talk about mom?”

He tried to appear confident as he spoke, hating himself for trying to appease the people who tore apart his family, “We want them to support us in the Arena. You can’t call them out for war crimes.”

“Then what am I supposed to do? Tell them they’re fighting a fair war and they should be proud of killing our tribe’s benders?”

“You should tell them that you’re still learning and carrying on what they couldn’t eliminate.”

Hotah cleared his throat, trying to ease some of the tension and start them back on their rehearsal.

“Thanks for asking Joo Dee,” Katara’s new answer took a sharper tone, “It’s difficult being the last water bender of my tribe. I haven’t had the chance to train under a master, but I am still learning. My Gran-gran tells me of how the benders she grew up with used their abilities to serve those around them. I try to carry on this legacy and preserve our culture. I’ve even taught myself how to make a wave and a water whip from her stories alone.”

“Better,” Sokka chipped in.

“You’re such a long way from home,” Hotah tried to ignore Sokka’s biting glare, he now wished he wrote more insightful questions, “What are you nervous about once you enter the Arena?”

Katara made eye contact with Sokka, trying to tell him to cool it with his criticism, “Other than the world watching my every move?” She faked a laugh, “My family has made many sacrifices for this war, and this is just another challenge. My father and the other men of our tribe are currently at sea right now, doing their part in the war. I want to instill hope in them and everyone else back home that the Water Tribe is still fighting, surely the first water bending victor will remind everyone of the hope in perseverance.”

The room went quiet when Katara declared herself the upcoming victor. Hotah froze, unable to read his next question, as he looked back on their lessons earlier that day. Had she been learning with the intent to use his own bending against him? Only one water bender had ever made it to the final four, and even then he received generous support from sponsors. Sokka knew Katara could win, it’s why he felt like a fool for volunteering at times, but it rattled him to hear her say it. The words made his sister a killer.

He pushed the image out of his mind and instead focused on the audience sitting bewildered at her confidence. This was good. They needed to know she posed a threat to the Fire Lord’s bloodline. “Brilliant,” he set aside his parchment, having no more notes to take, “You’ll be the star of the night if you say that. I love it. That’s exactly what you need to do on stage.”

She grinned, “You told me not to let them change who I am.”


	5. 5

**5**

The gamemakers allowed the tributes to take the latter half of the day off to prepare for interviews. Given the choice of staying in the gym or trying to make themselves presentable for the Fire Nation, about half of the 13 remained. Some saw no point to the interviews, and the others knew they needed every second of training possible. With the Fire Nation volunteers upstairs, consulting with stylists and acting as if this was a pageant instead of a death walk, the other benders felt more comfortable to fail. Mai didn’t lurk in the corner to watch their mistakes—only the gamemakers could take note of their weaknesses.

As Toph debated whether or not it was smart to practice her bending before the remaining group of tributes, Haru approached her in the earth bending corner. He walked up behind her, trying to figure out how to help. “Hello,” he started, the two of them only spoke on the train ride from home, and even then, Toph listened to him and Jet more than she spoke. He knew she was blind and didn’t know much of The Hunger Games. Otherwise, she was a stranger to him. “I know we’re not really on the same team, but I was wondering if you wanted me to help you with some earth bending moves. I don’t know how much you learned back home, but I figured we could practice together.”

She didn’t need him to teach her anything. However, Toph committed to the frail-blind-girl bit until her private session with the gamemakers. Haru was right, the two of them weren’t on the same team, so she saw no reason to let him in on her secret. Mustering up a relieved smile, Toph walked with him to the center of the mat, “That sounds great, thank you.” Her master back home limited her studies to deep breathing. If she already lied to Haru, she might as well exaggerate what he taught her, “I’ve started learning how to push a rock, and I’m hoping I can finally get one to move by the end of the week.”

“That’s a great goal,” Haru tried to mask his fear for her as he centered a small boulder between them, “I have a two-foot boulder for us to practice with. Is this about the size you were thinking of?” She acted as if she couldn’t feel the boulder’s dimensions and reached out to wrap her arms around it. Her parents would freak if they knew she was going to try to move a rock half her size. As she nodded and backed away from the boulder, Haru stepped next to her and started explaining how to assume a wide, but strong stance. Her foundation would be key to any earth bending move; if she was immovable, then she could start moving the earth around her.

Toph played along—turning her feet inward and slouching toward the boulder—despite knowing how to stand and push a rock. Training with Haru, and really training in front of any of the tributes, seemed futile. She was just wasting time until she could surprise the gamemakers for a formidable score. However, as Haru guided her through some of the most basic motions, she realized he didn’t ground his bending in his feet. He worked with his hands. Reliant on her feet, she couldn’t mimic this style. Still, it gave her an insight into his strategy, how he commanded rocks to move rather than work through them. Maybe his offer to help her learn wasn’t such a waste of time for the both of them.

As the earth and water benders tried to learn from each other, Azula sat under the fountain with Lo and Li combing her hair. While tributes and volunteers already said their goodbyes to loved ones, the royal advisors managed to make their way into the tower for Azula. With their fashion sense, they worked as interview stylists for the volunteers each year, and their relationship to this year’s benders didn’t change that. They cooed over her perfection as they drug their combs through her hair, Lo reminding Azula how advanced she was for her age, and that no volunteer before her knew how to bend lightening. Li interjected to praise her sleek hair, not only would she wow the nation with her lightening, she would do so while looking impeccable and flawless. Tonight was her royal debut.

“I know the two of you know what tonight is,” Azula sat up, ready for them to dry her hair so she could begin trying on dresses for the interview, “But does Joo Dee know that it’s _my_ royal debut, and not Zuko’s? I know she can’t embarrass him, but surely Zhao won’t let her gas him up and win any favor with the people.”

Lo and Li moved together, dancing around Azula as they tied her hair and opened her wardrobe, “Outside the palace, the people know Ozai has two strong benders for children.”

“Military leaders know of Zuko’s disrespect, but only the highest class truly knows of his insubordination.”

“Azula, you must remember that the people expect to meet the royal _siblings_ tonight. They don’t know who the heir is yet. This is your chance to win them over.”

“Joo Dee won’t make anyone from the Fire Nation look bad. You, as always, will speak better than Zuko, but you must remember that you two are still Ozai’s children together for now.”

“Maintain your unity for as long as you can. If anyone, you should worry about Yue of the Northern Water Tribe tonight. The people will see two princesses, and you must show them that we have the stronger princess.”

Azula wrapped her robe around her. Glaring at Lo and Li as she mulled over their advice. She knew they were right, but she didn’t like their approach to the interviews. This felt like a circus performance. The Arena would confirm her as Ozai’s heir, and Zuko was her only real enemy in the Arena. The idea that she had to act as if Princess Yue posed any threat was a farce to the Fire Nation’s supremacy. Still, her advisors were right and helped her keep a pulse on the people. She wanted them to want her. After all, they would be her subjects in only a matter of years.

“Is the rock moving at all?” Toph stared ahead, resting her hands on the boulder as Haru stood off the mat. Once she perfected a fighting stance, she dedicated an hour to holding the boulder in place. Maybe tomorrow she would move it. The bender her parents knew couldn’t get this close to a rock, let alone stand strong next to it. For all Haru knew, Toph made major progress.

He let out a light laugh, wanting to keep their practice kind, “No, but you’re getting there. It’s a fairly heavy boulder, and I’m sure if you give it some more time you’ll push it by the end of the day.” He walked closer and set his hands next to hers, “You need to think stronger, like the boulder. It’s stubborn and won’t move unless forced.”

She pushed with the full force of a meekness she perfected at home. While Toph wanted to let down her guard and be herself, she knew she had to persist with this disguise for just a little while longer. This was like Earth Rumble VI. If no one expected much of her, they would discount her and loosen their defenses. Haru already did so. Toph played the long game.


	6. 6

**6**

Royal guards lined the tributes in their interview order backstage. They started with the wealthiest nation and worked through benders then non-benders before moving to the next nations in descending order of wealth. Ladies went first. The fire bending girl always started, but this year the last air bender would conclude the night instead of Sokka. Joo Dee knew basic information about each kid—their hometown, rumored strength levels, and their attitudes at dinners after training. Katara and Sokka didn’t know if she knew they were siblings. Hopefully, she fixated on the Katara’s inexperience as a bender and Sokka the unexpected volunteer. They didn’t want to risk the tributes using them against each other.

Jet and Suki drug their feet, barely moving when guards prodded them to straighten the line and stand in the right order. Both of them festered in resentment toward the nation that already took so much from them. Unpolished, they spent their entire day in training instead of dressing up for the gruesome spectators. Suki managed to spend a few minutes putting on eyeshadow in hopes of honoring the other Kyoshi Warriors on stage. Jet, however, looked like he just finished swinging his new war hammer at the gym because he did just finish practicing.

Zhao walked to the middle of the line, beckoning all of them to face him as he gave some last-minute insight into the interview process. Knowing most of them had never watched one of the most popular nights in the Fire Nation, he figured it important to warn them of their national audience. “Now, don’t worry too much about everyone watching you tonight. They just want to get to know you. The interviews tonight help foster global unity, as many of our wealthier citizens will likely make their sponsorship decisions after meeting you tonight. Many people want to support you and help you, please just be yourself,” He started walking up the line, fixating on Zuko as he asked for sincerity, “They won’t know your full skill levels until your scores are released and obviously once you all start fighting. If you talk about training, please do not divulge details of how you or anyone else performs. We like to keep our audience on the edge of their seats, after all.”

While Joo Dee welcomed the audience, the guards began to usher the tributes to the seats upstage. They would sit behind each interview, their reactions for everyone to watch. Once Joo Dee led the audience in sitting after the national anthem, Azula stepped with grace down the center stairs, maintaining a confident and almost threatening posture as she made her way to the interviewee’s chair. She scanned her eyes across the audience before ever connecting with Joo Dee. From his seat, Zuko knew she was trying to instill fear and awe in the people. He saw Iroh in the front row, looking disturbed by Azula’s on-stage persona. Zuko remembered Iroh told him to play their game and not worry about Azula or anyone else. How was he supposed to play their game tonight, though? It didn’t make any sense.

“Princess Azula,” Joo Dee grinned and silenced the applause, “It is a true honor to speak with you tonight. I think I speak for everyone when I say you captivated us during the Reaping. How have the Games been since that evening for you?”

She acknowledged Joo Dee finally, only to turn back to her people and speak to earn their favor, “It’s been the experience of a lifetime. I wake up each morning knowing I’m performing my duty to the Fire Nation for our war effort,” She let a smile sneak through her words, “At first it was difficult, if I may be honest, though. My friends and brother volunteered this year, and while I love their company in training, it’s difficult to know we’ll enter the Arena together. We all must sacrifice for the war, though. We have so many soldiers who leave behind their families to enforce unity in our colonies. Fighting alongside my friends doesn’t compare as a sacrifice. We’re all just doing our part in the war, aren’t we?”

Joo Dee’s laugh reeked of insincerity, yet still ushered in joyous sounds from the audience. No one really knew how to feel about Azula yet. They loved their princess, but this was their first time truly meeting her. “How do you feel about this year’s batch of tributes? Should we anticipate a good show next week?”

“Oh, you know I can’t give away too much information,” she waited for audience to lean in, as if they wanted to share a secret with her, straightening her posture and letting them edge toward her, she grinned, “But if you must know, I think this year will be one to watch. You have some of the best from the Fire Nation, of course. There are some big personalities this year, and I look forward to see how they respond to the Arena.”

Azula and Joo Dee worked the audience well. The people seemed to enjoy Azula’s arrogance over the other tributes—she exemplified the pride they all took in their nation. Zuko didn’t know how to follow her performance. He lacked all of the charm she wielded to earn the respect and fear of others. Growing up he hid behind her when the adults expected the royal children to represent the nation. Now he needed Iroh to subdue his anger when people expected any sort of respectful performance from him. His sister made his way back to her seat, signaling that he had to move, regardless of if he knew what he was doing.

Wearing his white robes—those reserved for coronations and funerals—he made his way to sit next to Joo Dee. He greeted her, unsure how to interact with the audience and manipulate their respect like his sister did. He looked exposed, as if Joo Dee had just walked in on him changing. It didn’t matter that he knew he was supposed to get the people on his side and introduce himself as their prince. He didn’t know how to hold himself on stage. As Joo Dee asked him her first question, he blocked her out, trying to find Uncle Iroh in the front row and lock eyes with him for some comfort.

“Prince Zuko?” Joo Dee pried, “Did you hear my question?”

“No.”

His bluntness took her back, most years only a few from the Earth Nation countryside lacked manners with her. “Oh,” She slowed her speech, unsure how to speak to the prince, “I asked what motivated you to volunteer this year.” Zhao planted the question. Ozai forced Zuko to participate instead of banishing him. Zuko asked why his father felt no remorse sending three, sometimes four, of the most talented and devoted teenagers in the Fire Nation to a public and brutal death. Their sacrifice preyed off of loyalty that his father disregarded and it disgusted him. But Iroh told him to keep this to his heart. No one needed to know why he fought and no one needed to know he was a tribute.

“I, uh,” he started and paused as soon as he saw Zhao sit down next to his uncle, “I wanted to fight for my honor. If I’m going to be the Fire Lord one day, then I must partake in the war effort. The Games are the front lines today, so I figured volunteering would allow me to show the nation how I’ll fight for our dominance. What sort of prince would I be if I sat in the palace without ever taking a stand for the nation?” As Toph sat upstage, she kept her feet planted on the floor. She felt each tribute trembling with nerves as the camera streamed their performance across the world. Still, Zuko’s vibrations stood out among the rest—he lied. Unsteady when he spoke about volunteering, she knew the royal family possessed a secret about their participation this year.

“I’ve heard a rumor about you, Prince Zuko,” Joo Dee spoke with a feigned excitement while Zuko grew tense at the thought she would expose his cover, “Is it true you and Mai feed the turtle ducks together during your breaks at the training center? People are starting to whisper that you two are closer than just allies among the volunteers.” A showmance. While this rumor didn’t reveal his father’s disdain for him or jeopardize his standing within the Fire Nation, he grew angry at the suggestion.

Who came up with these rumors? Did the gamemakers spend their day watching training from above and coming up with tabloid headlines to leak? What good came out of this besides adding some drama for middle aged women to invest in as the rest of the tributes slaughtered each other? Did this serve to place a visible target on him and Mai, so Azula was justified when she electrocuted them?

“Mai and I are friends,” he spoke through grinding teeth, appalled that Joo Dee would ask such a question, “We’ve always been friends. All of us grew up in school together, and I don’t see how its news to anybody in the Capitol that our group is close. I thought you were supposed to ask meaningful questions, Joo Dee.”

In the Fire Nation’s corner of the stage, Ty Lee looked appalled that Zuko would lash out like that. She turned to Mai, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder to ask if she was okay after Zuko denied any feelings for her. That wasn’t what Mai cared about, though, she couldn’t figure out if this kept her and Zuko safer by throwing off any potential alliances discussion, or if it just embarrassed her. He knew she spoke next and would have to save face after facing a public rejection. But she knew Zuko didn’t care, in part because she didn’t, and in part because he never thought things through.

By the time Toph sat down, Joo Dee became more cordial and dropped some of her friendliness. Interviewing enemies of the Fire Nation, she didn’t have to demonstrate the same admiration for the tributes. Still, she played her part to make sure the tributes could make a good impression on potential sponsors. She welcomed Toph Beifong to the stage and made an effort to emphasize that she came from a family of means. “Ms. Beifong, it is an honor to welcome you as one of our earth bending tributes. Do you mind telling us about how you learned how to bend while blind?”

With a faint smile, she sat still, “My master back home and I focus on deep breathing exercises. I’m sure you know earth bending is very dangerous, so I’m taking my lessons with caution. Between the two of us, Joo Dee, I’m a little worried about entering the Arena with more experienced benders.”

“Yes, about that,” Joo Dee spoke to the audience, trying to engage them as she introduced the children of enemy nations, “I’ve heard you never watched The Hunger Games back home. How are you preparing for them this week?”

“You’re right. I obviously never watched them, but my parents also went to lengths to ensure I never overheard the screenings shown at home. It would be too traumatizing for me to hear people dying on screen,” she took a second to center herself and try to ignore the pressing thought that her parents would watch her transform in the Arena into a girl they didn’t recognize, “The other tributes from the Earth Kingdom have taught me a lot about the Games. I don’t know if I’ll be able to kill anyone, but I am confident I can hide well from the kids capable of murder. I hope I can outlast the others in the Arena and return home safely. That’s really all I can plan on right now.”

Filled with sympathy, the audience sent Toph back to her seat upstage with a roaring applause. Some started to question the gruesome nature of the games. It seemed particularly cruel to ask a blind girl to survive against trained killers and other benders trying to make it home. How would she even find her hiding spot so she could try to outlast them? As Haru and Suki took the stage and discussed the destruction within their villages, the audience remained soft. These were kids living with the war in their backyards, and now they stood along the front lines. Suki spoke about the Kyoshi Warriors—she seemed strong and well-trained. Had it been any other year the audience would focus on her ambition and edge. However, they fixated on the cruelty of sending Toph to her execution. Following Azula’s performance and the rumors of her ability to bend lightening, Suki looked more like an upcoming war casualty rather than a stand-out to root for in the Games. Maybe, some of the people began to question, The Hunger Games were a terrible way to rage war.

Then Jet took the stage. He made no effort to dress for the occasion and his hair still glistened with sweat earned in the gym. Before he sat down the audience knew he would either be the killer among non-benders or he did not care for their respect. Joo Dee withheld her disgust with his presence and instead focused on trying to salvage his public persona as much as she could. “Jet, it looks like you’ve devoted yourself to your training for the Arena. Tell me, what’s your weapon of choice? Who taught you to fight?”

A gruesome question. However, the audience was growing too gentle. She needed to remind them of the joy they found in watching tributes from inferior nations fight among themselves. Ozai knew what his people liked to watch. The Hunger Games wouldn’t be in their ninth year without their support. If Jet wanted to look like the killer from his nation, she would help him out.

“I work well with dual hook swords,” He kept his answer short, not wanting to indulge the Fire Nation with a character and not wanting their pity, “They don’t have those in the gym, so I started learning the war hammer. My dad taught me the hook swords, and now I’m teaching myself the war hammer.”

She needed to give him a boost. Jet made no effort to be likeable, which left the responsibility to Joo Dee, asked about girlfriends and boyfriends always humanized people, but she already failed to soften Zuko with that approach. If Jet wanted to look formidable, she would heighten the tributes’ fears. That also put on a good show, and he was willing to change the tone Toph set for the Earth Kingdom. “I’m sure you’ve made substantial progress. Do you feel prepared to enter the Arena?”

“Yes, I am prepared to fight.”

He held back, she needed to push harder, “What do you guess you’ll body count will be? What should the people fear most about you, Jet?”

“You want to go there?” By instinct, he reached to his belt loop for a sword, only to remember he walked unarmed onto the stage, “You think so low of me that I would kill the eight other victims to this theatre just so that the people in this city forget about how they ravaged communities back home?”

“Jet,” she tried to apologize as little as possible to subdue him, “This is just a misunderstanding. That’s not at all what I was asking you to say.”

“You asked my body count, Joo Dee,” He stood out of his chair and looked throughout the sea of people, “Count them, then. I’m getting out of the Arena, and I’m not stopping my fight until the Fire Nation experiences what the Earth Kingdom went through.”

She reached her hand out, maintaining a gentle appearance while telling him he needed to sit down before the guards rushed on stage and made an example of him, “What an _interesting_ strategy—”

“Fuck you, Joo Dee,” Instead of sitting for the rest of his interview, Jet turned and made his way back to his seat in between Suki and Katara, “Fuck the whole Fire Nation while you’re at it.” He locked eyes with the guard waiting in the wings for him to make one more misstep. He was done. Sitting down, Jet crossed his arms and fumed in silence. He didn’t regret what he said, and after the Games the nation would wish they took his warning.

Katara shot Sokka a knowing glance—he predicted something like this. There was no way Jet would try to stage a coup with a stranger and not lash out in his interview. They worked together to ensure Katara would foil him and provide the audience with a relief before she struck against them. She rose from her seat, taking her time to walk to Joo Dee. While the Earth Kingdom tributes ignored the Fire Nation’s offer to supply the tributes with a stylist and new clothing for their interview, Sokka insisted everyone from the Water Tribe took advantage of the offer. In a cropped shirt and flowing blue skirt, the stylist highlighted Katara’s athleticism while still allowing her to express her femininity. She was the perfect opposite to Jet as she gracefully took her seat next to Joo Dee. Within an instant, the Fire Nation looked to her like a savior to their anxiety. They bit onto her hook. 

“Welcome, Katara,” Joo Dee spoke without a care, as if Jet hadn’t threatened her or the very state that permitted her to live, “You look gorgeous tonight. Please tell us, what was life like back in the Southern Water Tribe?”

So they wanted her to be their impoverished water bender. She asked this of the last tribute from the South and the audience took massive pity on the girl from the town with ice huts and no defenses. “It’s loving, Joo Dee,” Katara sought to tell them about what else the Southern Water Tribe had, “Our community is very tight-knit, and I miss them deeply. I feel a special connection to our families; my grandmother and I deliver most of the babies around town, so I’ve had the joy of watching many of them start to grow up.”

“Oh, how sweet that sounds,” Joo Dee limited her active listening and relating, sensing that Katara would take advantage of it and suggest the Fire Nation lacked the community her tribe possessed. “You’re also the only bender left in the South. Without spoiling too much of your upcoming score, how has training gone?”

“Well, I may not have studied under a master, but I still feel a great responsibility as the bender within my tribe. Gran-gran tells me a lot about the other benders she grew up with, and I try to act with the same bravery and commitment to service that they did,” She smiled, working to keep her favor with the audience, “Being here with Hotah also helps—we’ve been training together, and I feel I’ve learned a lot.”

Maybe it was because she didn’t fling insults and swears at them. Maybe she was charismatic and captivating. Regardless of why, the audience took to her. The people stayed quiet, almost anticipating her responses and wanting to hear more from her after each idea. She was different from the other Water Tribe tributes they met, and her confidence captured the stage—for a few minutes, this was Katara’s world and they were just happy to be in it. “Katara,” Joo Dee started, trying to reign in her performance, “What are you nervous about as you enter the Arena in less than a week now?”

Perfect. “Other than the whole world watching me? I sure hope my hair loopies stay in place the entire time,” She turned to the audience, basking in their laughs and keeping her eyes on them, “Between you and me, I’m not that nervous. The Games are another sacrifice my family has to make for this war. I don’t see how they’re much different from any sacrifice before my Reaping. I’m focused on instilling hope back home. The Water Tribe knows how to persevere, but times are hard right now. I’m sure seeing the first victor from home will build a new hope in the Southern Water Tribe this year.”

The audience stopped laughing. They stopped admiring her dress, her confidence, her love. She wasn’t the girl they wanted anymore. They wanted the girl who delivered babies and had a fleeting grasp on water bending—someone they could mourn when Zuko slaughtered her. This wasn’t the water bender they wanted. As Joo Dee stumbled across her words sending Katara back to her seat, Katara knew she did her job. The tributes, especially the volunteers, looked at her as if she spoke out of bounds. The Games were a performance and she just told the Fire Nation she was done acting.

Sokka was right—they needed Hotah to dumb it down and be their boy next door. If he went in with an edge, they would lose any hope of getting the Fire Nation on their side. Katara sent a message, and Hotah would remind them why they even bothered to listen. Calming the audience, he breezed through his interview. Joo Dee threw him soft balls, and he answered without stress and without the dedication to throw anything back. With Yue preaching love after him, the audience seemed to forgive Katara’s threat. She countered Azula’s arrogance just enough to pique their interest, but not in a way that would offend the Fire Nation. Their strategy was working. The Water Tribe was no longer the nation of the meek and terrified tributes. They held their own. Not only did they know they had a chance this year, but now the world did.

As Sokka made his way downstage, the guard in the wings signaled to Joo Dee that this was starting to be enough. She couldn’t go nice with him. The stylist dressed him with respect, he looked like a warrior and stood like one too. At Yue’s insistence, he wore his hair down. She said it made him look cooler, more collected. It was Joo Dee’s responsibility to dismantle this appearance now. The Water Tribe couldn’t look too prepared. If their tributes were already so bold, their volunteer must be ready to pull something.

“Sokka, welcome,” She smiled, drawing out her greeting as she tried to rework her questions following the guard’s signal, “You must be excited to be here. You certainly surprised the world as you volunteered. Walk me through that decision. Surely you knew Katara growing up. How do you see her—with that much dedication to win—be selected during the Reaping, and then volunteer?”

His heart fell. They picked a nerve, and Joo Dee wouldn’t let them continue with this performance. He toned down his excitement, taking a more solemn look, “I didn’t volunteer to fight Katara. In fact, I’m not fighting to win,” He broke his gaze to Joo Dee and turned to the audience. Generals lined the front row and all looked at him like he was stupid, discounting everything they originally assumed from his appearance as a warrior. He wouldn’t let them intimidate him. Sokka knew who he was, and the gamemakers’ decision to cut the Water Tribe’s glory before his interview couldn’t stop him. “I’m sure you all know the Southern Water Tribe has a younger population. This year we had a larger reaping pool, we now have enough teenagers where we contribute half of the Water Tribe’s tributes. That means the kids are now old enough to be reaped. I didn’t volunteer to win. Joo Dee, I don’t know if I can become a murderer in the Arena, but I can try. The eleven-year-olds back home aren’t killers. They’re still innocent in this war, and they need to remain that way for as long as possible.”

Toph knew this wasn’t the case. However, he spoke with such conviction no one else picked up on the lie. Joo Dee may have kicked him, but Sokka always landed on his feet. “If you don’t expect to win,” she wasn’t backing down—Sokka didn’t get a congenial interview, “What do you anticipate the Arena to look like? The kids are safe back home now, Sokka, what comes next?”

“Three, maybe four, people here expect to win. Please don’t say that like I’m the only one, Joo Dee. Besides, I can be realistic without being hopeless,” He sat back in his chair. If Yue thought he could pull off a cool look, he would. Joo Dee crushed his warrior façade, so now he played defense, “My father is stationed away from home with the rest of the men from the South. I haven’t seen him in four years, and this is my chance to show him the man I was becoming. I’ve always wanted to be a strategist, and I plan on playing a strong game next week. I’m not Katara or a Fire Nation heir, but I can keep them on their toes.”

He didn’t get the cold send-off Jet did, but few people in the audience contributed a vibrancy to his applause. Sokka split the people—some respected him. He was right, besides Katara, their heirs, and maybe the Avatar, everyone else had to know the reality of their situation. He at least took the honorable way of protecting the children and fighting what fight he could. Others just thought him offensive. A peasant from the South had no means acting as if he would be the pragmatist behind the games. He spoke like he wanted to be the savior of the innocents and a gamemaker on the inside. Sokka was asking too much.

Aang walked to the front amidst this confusion. He didn’t get the warm welcome others did. While Sokka split the crowd into two polarized camps, no one knew how to feel about the Avatar. He seemed above the Games, but they still wanted him dead and unable to oppose their war. “Avatar Aang, please sit,” Joo Dee replaced her biting tone reserved for Sokka with her condescending voice, trying to conclude these interviews without another scene. “Welcome to the Fire Nation, we’re honored to host you in our Capitol.”

“Flameo, hot men,” he bowed to the audience, not acknowledging Joo Dee. He seemed to look past her, he wanted more than the pageantry of the interviews.

“How have you been preparing for the Games?”

“I mean no disrespect,” he finally turned to her, smiling with a small bow to greet her before dismissing her, “But I would like to speak to Fire Lord Ozai about The Hunger Games instead.”

“Aang, surely you must understand that one does not simply ask for an interview with the Fire Lord.”

“I’m not asking for an interview. I think we should have a conversation. He knows these Games aren’t just. He’s already waging an unrighteous war, and this only exacerbates the inequalities he creates.”

“I’m sorry, Aang, you must not mean that’s how you’ve spent your time in training.”

“I want to speak with the Fire Lord. I know he’s listening,” Aang scanned the crowd, figuring he must be secluded in the palace right now, “Ozai, you know where I’ll be this week. Come to the tower. This is no way to fight a war.”


	7. 7

**7**

The air felt heavier as the tributes waited for Zhao to unlock the gym door’s that following morning. Everyone knew more about each other now—they were no longer training to kill strangers. Some, like Azula, Mai, and Katara, seemed to stand taller. The rest seemed to have shrunk overnight. The Games felt more personal, and the tributes understood their gravity more.

As they shuffled in, most acted as if nothing changed. Despite everyone feeling a new weariness, no one wanted to look affected. Hotah acted as if Katara still didn’t scare him. While he questioned whether or not he should continue teaching her, he realized no one would respect him if he backed down from her now. Toph continued her act, standing next to a rock and leading Haru on that she was helpless. However, Jet started to storm to the fire bending corner. “Hey Fire Lord,” he spent his sleepless light replaying the heirs’ interviews, wanting to challenge Azula and Zuko. She seemed more tempered, though, so he would wait until the Arena to fight her. Dragging his chained war hammer across the gym floors, Jet pushed Zuko’s shoulder with his open hand, “Explain the honor behind all of this. What good does it do the Fire Nation to kill the innocents, besides let the rest of the world know that you’re truly irredeemable?”

Unfazed by Jet assigning royalty to the weaker sibling, Azula strolled away from the fire bending mat. She took Ty Lee by the elbow and led her to a more isolated section of the gym. She’d let Zuko have this fight if the Earth Kingdom refugee really thought her brother strongest. “What do you bet Zuko lets his own flame blow up his face?” Whispering with Ty Lee, she cut herself off from her brother and wanted nothing to do with his failure.

“Surely they won’t fight now,” Ty Lee looked up to Azula, trying to gauge her wager’s seriousness. Across the gym, other tributes set their equipment down with the knowledge Jet was going to do _something._ “Didn’t that boy just start learning how to swing his hammer? I don’t think he’d be dumb enough to try to fight Zuko with it already.”

While the two gathered an audience, Zuko forgot Iroh’s advice. Maybe the mocking tone Jet took to his crown prince status set him off. Maybe Zuko was already slipping from his uncle’s ethics, and Jet just provided him an opportunity to act without thoughts and only anger. Regardless, he pushed back. Stepping closer to Jet, Zuko walked him off the fire bending mat, “You want to talk about honor with me?” Holding two flames around his hands, Zuko managed to force Jet to the center of the gym—where all the weapons sat for selection. Without breaking eye contact, he grabbed the—his—broad swords and took his first step back, “Tell me how you can declare a genocide and then pretend to be among the innocent.”

Jet pulled on his chain, jumping the hammer off the ground so he could grab the handle for close combat. Oblivious to the observing tributes, he locked his focus on Zuko, “Yeah, I think I am among the innocent. You’re the one with actual blood on your hands, after all. Your family did a genocide, and your father is starting another one.” He tightened his grip on the handle, preparing himself to fight like he was already in the Arena, “I was just defending myself up there, last night. You’re the guilty one.”

Assuming a fighting position, Zuko separated his swords and anchored them at his hips, ready to strike, but refusing to make the first move. Jet asked for this fight, and Zuko had learned to stand up for himself. He wouldn’t let a sleazy vigilante take anything from him. He watched Jet grapple with the war hammer. He only prepared for close combat; uncomfortable with the chain, the kid didn’t know how to throw the hammer if Zuko stepped out of arm’s reach. Fire bending, he could narrow the tributes down to 12. However, his life wasn’t on the line—not yet at least. He’d stick to his swords so not to create an uneven battleground.

He raised the hammer, pulling it behind his side to launch the first strike. Zuko may not have thought him capable, but Jet was ready to kill. All the observers understood this. He was ready to begin his one-man army assault on the Fire Nation, starting with their prince. As he brought the hammer down, Zuko raised his left sword to block, but Jet pivoted at a moment’s notice to aim for his wrist instead of blade. As a yell left Zuko, he threw himself forward and pushed his strength into his right sword. Lunging at Jet, he trimmed his bangs—a guard pulled Jet just out of Zuko’s reach. The Games disallowed murder until everyone entered the Arena, and as the boys’ anger boiled, they threatened that rule. Another guard restrained Zuko, taking a gentle approach with him compared to Jet. As one was dragged out of the gym, the other was given a chance to set down his weapons and walk alongside the guard as they left the gym. Though unsaid, the tributes knew Jet and Zuko wouldn’t return to the gym until the next morning at the earliest.

“It looks like you were wrong,” Ty Lee chirped into Azula’s ear as she tried to break the tension. Azula bore a look of disappoint, as if she couldn’t understand her brother’s choice for the swords instead of his internal flame. Jet was a scoundrel begging for a fight. High on their uncle’s tea, Zuko abandoned the chance to teach Jet and the other ambitious tributes a lesson all to uphold a phony honor.

“Looks like it,” she turned away from Ty Lee to return to her fire bending corner. The first to resume her gym routine, Azula signaled to the rest of the tributes that they wouldn’t speak of what just happened. She was above it, and so those who bothered discussing it any further lacked a similar sophistication.

Despite Azula’s leadership, another guard made his way down from the gamemakers’ suite. He stopped in the middle of the gym, blocking the non-benders from accessing any weapons they couldn’t grab during the fight. He fixated on Suki, attempting to discern her relationship to Jet. The two practiced independent of each other, only demonstrating solidarity backstage for their interviews. It was unlikely they had any connection beyond the Earth Kingdom and their place in line. He deemed her fine to continue in the gym. However, he knew Jet spoke with Sokka for a considerable time on their first day training. Sokka must have a connection to Jet’s conspiracy. The guard stepped away, permitting the tributes to select their weapons for the morning. However, just before Sokka grabbed the club, the guard took his wrists behind him. He too would be drug out of the gym for his involvement with Jet.


	8. 8

**8**

“So when they said you guys all volunteered,” Suki picked at the bread, rolling the crumbs into balls, too nervous to eat, “Did you really volunteer? Or do they pick you guys and make a show?”

“What are you getting at?” Mai sighed, unsure why Azula insisted on her getting to know the Earth Kingdom girl. Sure, she seemed trained and ambitious, but she couldn’t stand against Azula’s lightening. Besides, even if she could, the gamemakers wouldn’t let two heirs die.

She set her bread down, leaning back on her hands as Mai seemed to push her away from anything more than a simple greeting, “It just seems surprising that they can get four teenagers to volunteer every year… Especially since, y’know, only one wins.” Maybe she should’ve tried a nicer conversation. This was awfully dark, but Suki didn’t know what else to talk about. Comparing schools would only make her miss home, and she knew Mai and her couldn’t be allies. It stuck her odd that Mai would even approach her on their lunch break.

“More than four people volunteer,” she took a sip of her water, trying to appear somewhat engaged in this, “It’s a whole big deal around here. I’ve heard hundreds apply from across the nation, but the Royal Academy limits it to the top ten of each class. We have a reputation to uphold, you understand.”

She wasn’t sure she did understand. “What do you get at it for applying?”

Mai couldn’t grasp why Suki cared so much about the politics of the Fire Nation’s reaping. It didn’t matter anymore, and it didn’t help her game that much to know her or Ty Lee’s motivations, “I can only speak for the Academy, but if you can apply and you don’t, you basically withdraw yourself from ever getting a position in the government or military. Every year you make your top ten after you turn eleven, you apply just to avoid blacklisting yourself.”

“Did you actually want to be selected?”

“Yes,” Mai leaned back, mirroring Suki’s posture to level with her, “This gives me something to do, and at least the rest of you are genuine. Nobody feels the need to put on a face before the die.”

“This is fun for you?”

“My turn to ask a question, alright?” Azula told Mai to get information on Suki, see what motivated her and if she was as serious of a player as what she appeared. If she got to interrogate her about the Reaping process, Mai deserved to know some stuff about the village girl, “What was your deal that first night?”

“Same as my deal now,” She looked around, trying to get a feel for how far away the other groups of tributes sat, how many guards listened in anticipation of removing her from the situation again, “Like you said, I’m not going to put on a face before I die. The Games are still war, and I’m not going to stand back from a fight just because the cameras aren’t on yet.”

“Even though that’ll just make the gamemakers act to spite you in the Arena?”

“As if they would bend the rules and change the terrain to favor me if I kept quiet?”

“Fair point,” Mai’s lip curled upwards the slightest bit; she appreciated Suki. She didn’t let her realism corrupt her spirit. The Kyoshi Warriors were really missing out without their leader now, “What do you think of the Earth and Water tributes?”

“You know I’m not going to help you collect intel for the fire benders, right? Do I seem that vapid to you?”

“Relax, I’m just making conversation. You can keep it surface level if you don’t want to talk about their fighting skills.”

“You go first.”

Mai reached forward to grab a bite of her fruit, enjoying their conversation now. Suki gave her more respect than Azula did and she kept Mai on her toes, “I think they’re going to score Toph an eight.” The strongest non-fire benders received sevens. On the twelve-point scale, the gamemakers created a lore of tributes working hard all week and demonstrating their best for public scoring. However, eights and above went to the Fire Nation, with the other benders having to give it all in hopes of a five, at least.

“She can’t push a rock,” Suki finally ate, knowing she needed energy to practice more with their privates coming up soon, “Do you really think she’s scamming us right now? I’m pretty certain she’s blind.”

“She’s certainly blind,” In all honesty, Mai didn’t think Toph was tricking them. She recognized the possibility—Toph had the perfect opportunity and she milked the audience hard for sympathy—but it seemed too unlikely. She was probably stronger than she let on, but no Earth Kingdom school would teach a blind girl to bend beyond basic moves. “I think the gamemakers are going to try to scare us, though. She went from Ms. Innocent not knowing what the Games are in her interview to saying she’ll let everyone kill themselves and starve to death while she hides. She has a dark side.”

“They don’t score us on our dark sides.”

“No, but they score us to create a story for the public. She gives them something new, and they’ll probably try to build suspense around her.”

“Interesting,” It seemed like a stretch, but Suki wasn’t the one who applied to the Games every year. Mai knew the Games in a way she didn’t, “I’m betting Katara gets the seven. She seems like the strongest among the earth and water benders.”

“Didn’t she say she never trained under a master? She couldn’t have taught herself enough to do anything lethal.”

“Yeah, but have you watched her practice in the gym? She’s a fast learner,” she inched closer, hoping that the other tributes didn’t eavesdrop on their predictions, “She’s a willing underdog, and I think they’ll let her keep going with it.”

Mai mulled over Suki’s hypothesis. She made a valid point. After the show she gave in her interview, the gamemakers had to keep Katara notable or else the people would balk the show. The girl from the Southern Water Tribe knew she was improving her chances for sponsorships, but she didn’t know what sort of enemy she was making out of the volunteers.

The two sat and finished their lunches without further discussion of the tributes. Suki wanted to ask about the rest of the volunteers, but knew she would get a target on her back instead of an honest answer. Briefly, she thought that if the war didn’t divide them, her and Mai could’ve been friends. They seemed to respect each other. Neither wanted to deal with facades and Mai kept the conversation interesting. But she also found entertainment at the Games—actively seeking participation as a child soldier so she wasn’t blacklisted by the world’s terrorist.

“You know you’re getting too good with those fans, right?” Mai twiddled the ends of her hair, watching them move in a circle as she broke their silence.

“What?”

“They know you’re strong with the fans. You know you’re not favored to win,” Mai set her hair down and leaned a bit closer to Suki—keeping this between the two of them, “I think you’re smart enough to figure out what comes next.”


	9. 9

**9**

The Fire Nation volunteers sat in the common area, letting the air around them grow dense with tension. Tomorrow they would perform individually before the gamemakers. With their scores releasing in less than twenty-four hours, it felt as if they were about to become a lot less unified. It was on them to prioritize an alliance, even if they’re scores seemed to divide them.

“We need to talk about Zuko,” Ty Lee couldn’t stand the silence—they all knew he needed to be addressed, but Mai didn’t want to confront him and Azula thought the matter would be best handled between the two of them. Fighting with the Earth Kingdom non-benders to the point of being restrained and even escorted out once was beneath a Fire Nation volunteer—let alone the prince. He made a fool of himself and Mai during his interview, sending out rumors that the volunteers were not as close as reporters first proclaimed. In the process of becoming his biggest enemy, he was becoming the volunteers’ too.

“What is there to talk about?” Zuko kept his head down and fixated his gaze on the floor between his knees. He knew he raised problems, but he didn’t want them to acknowledge it. This was his battle with Azula, and their alliance made it easier for them to secure the final two, “I would’ve looked weak if I backed down from Jet that day. It’s not like we can change what happened, anyway, so let’s just focus on where we’re going.”

“We are focusing on the future,” Azula introduced herself to the conversation, “And if you weren’t so attached to the idea of honor, you easily could’ve stepped away from Jet. He’s beneath you, and you know that, it’s why you used swords. Your honor shouldn’t triumph over your confidence, especially not at the expense of us.” She crossed her legs and leaned back into the couch as she scolded him, “Did you think that through, Zuzu? Honestly, did you anticipate how it would impact your score, and how we’d look as a unit? You didn’t, you just wanted to fight some vigilante who’s going to die in the Cornucopia.”

“What would’ve you done in that scenario? I don’t buy that all of you guys were thinking days ahead about how gamemakers and spectators would react to something not even in the Arena.”

“He challenged me too,” Azula rolled her eyes, “I just walked away. It wasn’t difficult.”

Ty Lee’s nervousness broke and she spoke with a new assuredness, relieved that they were addressing this before everyone knew their scores, “I would’ve told him to wait for the Arena—I’d rather kill him with an audience so his family would at least know how he died.”

“I think I would have just ignored him,” Mai slouched in her chair across from Zuko. She knew she had to work with the other volunteers. As a non-bender, it was her role to protect Azula and Zuko—not that they needed much assistance—until they could finish the Games between themselves. She was there on behalf of the Fire Nation Royal Army, and so she would act like it. However, after talking with Suki days ago she wondered if she didn’t owe the nation anything how she would actually play. This group made their strategy too messy, “You don’t owe Jet anything, Zuko. Don’t let yourself forget who you are, and who isn’t worth your time.”

“So, fine, I messed up. But I’m not the only one of us who’s made mistakes this week,” His anger grew—surrounded by a firing squad of so-called allies, he felt as if his father picked the people closest to him and Azula to further punish him. There was a cruelty in knowing how Mai and Ty Lee would side when it came down to it, regardless of how he and Mai may have felt for each other.

“Well, Azula and I gave charming interviews. And Mai wasn’t that charismatic, but she still got the people to like her. Plus, the three of us have been using our time in training to intimidate the volunteers and try to figure out their strategies. We’re playing our game, Zuko, we just don’t know what you’re doing.

“I’m also just playing my game,” he clenched his fists and forced himself to remain seated. This felt like some sort of twisted intervention, like he was a danger to himself for not acting like he was excited about going into a thirteen-way death match all because his father thought it would break the will of weaker nations faster. “I’m doing everything I’m supposed to do, and just because you guys take it with a better attitude doesn’t mean I’m jeopardizing our nation in the Games.”

Without emotion, speaking as if she only wanted her answer, Azula asked: “Then what’s your plan for your private tomorrow? How are you going to get the gamemakers on your side?”

“I’m going to demonstrate my strength—I’ll perform my most athletic fire-bending routine.”

“That’s your plan? You’re not going to do any damage control to get them back on your side. Zuko, what do you think your score will be? Why should we continue to keep you in our alliance when they give you a five, just like Haru, and turn the Arena against you? You’re endangering us with your carelessness.”

“I’m going to make things right, so stop acting like I’m just going to fail! It’s like you forget I’m first in-line for the throne, Azula. We’re both still alive, and until something changes, the people know me as the next Fire Lord. Sure, I may have messed up this week, but the gamemakers can’t let the people lose hope in me.”

“Yes, I’m sure they care about your birth right, Zuko, I’m sorry for suggesting otherwise.”

Two floors higher in the tower, the tributes from the Water Tribe sat in the same position as the fire volunteers. Despite the individual nature of the following day’s private sessions with the gamemakers, they felt a need to discuss it together. Katara had forged a small alliance with Aang after Sokka was removed from training for a day—she knew her brother had reservations about working with the Avatar, but Aang seemed pure, she trusted him to fight a good fight with her. Other than her, the rest of the Water Tribe tributes kept each other as their allies. Maybe they found trust in the people who felt like home, or maybe they were just too paranoid to give themselves away to the other tributes. Regardless, they were entering the Games together.

Despite spending a full day locked in solitude, Sokka only managed to plan for his and Katara’s private. After a brief conversation with Jet condemned him, he wasn’t planning on giving Yue or Hotah anything else. He made sure they represented the Water Tribe well in their interviews, and since decided that he didn’t need to invest anymore in them.

Tonight, however, the depth of their trust and alliance wasn’t the discussion. They instead focused on how they felt they could stack up against their competition. It seemed smarter to try to score higher than the others, rather than simply perform their best work for the gamemakers. This wasn’t an individual journey, so they had to treat everything in relation to the groups.

“I think it’s safe to say they’re going to privilege the Fire Nation,” Yue began, sorting through her memories of how they showed off throughout the week, “Did the gloomy girl say something once about her dad being a gamemaker? That probably means she’ll be the top non-bender.”

Katara shook her head, “I heard he’s not working this year to create some fairness. I guess even the gamemakers aren’t cruel enough to kill their own daughter by their hand.”

“Yeah,” Sokka sighed, “They’ll just let their colleagues do it.”

“Let’s focus on the Earth Kingdom. We already know they’re going to score the Fire Nation well,” Katara pushed up her sleeves and walked over to the parchment Sokka mounted on the wall. With everyone’s names listed, she jotted down her perceptions on Haru and Toph’s skill levels, “Haru has been teaching Toph basic earth bending all week. It’s a huge sign of humility and selflessness—how do we think they’re going to treat him?”

Yue watched Katara move without self-doubt, almost mesmerized by her posture. She stood so tall in the face of death; analytical when pressed and confident when overlooked. Maybe Yue should worry more about her, she knew Katara was honest in her interview, but maybe she needed to take that honesty with a bit more gravity. “I think it’ll lower his score, right? They probably take his selflessness as weakness, and they’ll punish him for that tomorrow.”

“That, or,” she twirled the pen between her fingers, piecing together how a corrupted gamemaker looks at tributes like soldiers, “They’ll take it that he’s been trying to help his kind. They want him to embody the hope of the Earth Kingdom. The gamemakers use the Games to prevent unity among the people they oppress, so they’ll try to crush Haru for representing that hope.”

“So that means they’ll still give him a low score.”

Sokka finally pitched in to this conversation, deciding he could give the Northern tributes help with measuring their competition—they were allies after all, “It means he’ll get a good score. He’ll look like a threat, so Azula and Zuko will take him seriously and deliver a gruesome death. Anything to make the Fire Nation look stronger, they’ll do.” He still didn’t know how he was going to perform tomorrow. The gamemakers liked him more than Jet, but that didn’t say much. As the last Water Tribe speaker, he already turned them against him in his interview, and now they thought he wanted to kill Fire Nation civilians with Jet. He needed to do more than slice stuff with his boomerang to recover his reputation among them.

He stood up, walking toward his sister to examine her notes on each tribute as he pieced together what a gamemaker would make of this year’s cohort. Saving Toph, they had a strong group. Either the gamemakers would reflect the group’s strength and shift their score curve upward, or they would maintain their ratios from years past, “No bender outside of the Fire Nation scores above a five without being a major threat. They want to make Earth and Water benders look particularly weak, so they try to keep their scores close to the non-benders, normally just slightly above them.”

“Sokka, what are you getting at?”

“There’s a plot. They place their volunteers as nines and above. If, _if,_ there is a strong threat, they’ll give another bender a seven. After that, everyone is a six and below. They’ll undercut the headaches from training, which gives you the ones and twos, and the rest fall between four and six. You’ll have the average benders and combat-trained non-benders here. Every year, at least one four turns out to be strong and holds their own for the first couple days. The fives and sixes are well behaved in training, performed well in their interviews, and have a chance making it to the final five. Let’s figure out where our group fits into the pattern, alright?”

The wall caved in under his fist, the drywall simmering as Zuko let his flame die out. After the group decided to split and get rest for tomorrow, he was left alone to make sense of their conversation. He knew Azula would turn against him earlier than necessary, and it only made sense for Ty Lee to follow her. Maybe he was just ignorant, but he thought Mai would have stood next to him longer. So quick to jump with the other girls on him about how he wasn’t playing the part ascribed to him in The Hunger Games. This went beyond his awkward performance at the interview, she wouldn’t hold that against him in a life or death situation. However, Mai would abandon him if she knew that Azula was endgame. Loyal and pristine in reputation, he knew she left him not because of what he did, but instead what he didn’t do.

Zuko knew he had no one. Separated from Uncle Iroh, no one would stand next to him through the trials ahead. The other tributes had no reason to trust him, so it was worthless to try to pursue in alliance in the next few days. He just needed to survive—hope that Azula tripped on her own fatal ego—but know that he was waiting for his Agni Kai with her. He just needed to dig deeper for more persistence.


	10. 10

**10**

The gamemakers called each tribute into the gym for their private session in the same order as they conducted their interviews. In years past, they intently focused on the Fire Nation volunteers’ performances—monitoring them for strengths and weaknesses to ensure they arrived on friendly ground in the Arena. After their last non-bender exited the gym, their attention flitted away. If they noticed a stronger Earth or Water tribute they would pay attention to understand how to block them from winning.

However, following the Seventh Hunger Games they began to allot more attention to each tribute. As they ignored the Omashu earth bender, they overlooked their victor. By the time he faced the last fire bender in the Arena, the gamemakers struggled to disadvantage him, for they only knew how he responded to his surroundings, not what he pursued and avoided. By giving tributes free reign in their privates—under the guise of the ability to impress the gamemakers and court sponsors—the gamemakers knew what each tribute wanted and conversely feared in the Arena.

Azula left the gym first. Walking with her head held high and not a hair out of place, she lowered the temperature in the hallway. Every tribute had to sit by as she demonstrated confidence in her ability to kill them. With Sokka and Aang at the end of the line, they would have to watch each tribute’s reactions. They would witness Ty Lee’s lethal joy, Suki’s surprised satisfaction, and Katara’s spiteful determination. They knew Azula would scare them, but they didn’t know succeeding tributes would also send chills down their spines. While Aang grew fearful, realizing how many killers surrounded him, Sokka ignored this intimidation. Unlike the Avatar, he never expected solidarity with the other tributes. Yue and Hotah were good to have around, but he always knew he couldn’t rely on them after long in the Arena.

No, he didn’t let the parade of killers shatter dreams of solidarity and revolution. He studied them. He learned who he discounted. Though he already knew this cohort possessed strong fighters, he realized he was up against more than what he originally thought.

Mai let the door close on its own as she left the gym. She moved slowly, but not with the same determination as Azula. Finished with everything for the day, she didn’t see a need to perform an intimidating confidence for the rest, but she also had no reason to run away. She performed well. And she knew that Azula and Zuko were waiting for her in the Fire Nation suite—ready to keep her up all night with paranoia over their scores and the stability of the alliance.

As she passed Aang, Ty Lee stood up, knowing it was her time. She moved with caution, placing each foot down after what seemed to be careful deliberation. In a cold sweat, she made her way to the center of the gym and faced the gamemakers. She bowed, then finally smiled. She looked like herself once more—excited, gleeful to the extent where one had to question if she understood her own power to take a life—yet, she suppressed new nerves. Last night’s conversation revealed that she needed to forge her own game. Zuko wouldn’t make it to the final two. As Azula’s opponent came down to herself and Mai, Ty Lee understood that she needed to plead her case as a worthy fighter to the gamemakers. If she appeared devoted enough, maybe they would shift the Arena to give her more mercy with her posthumous silver medal.

“Honorable gamemakers, thank you for the opportunity to represent the Fire Nation in the Ninth Hunger Games. I intend to fight for the glory of our nation and demonstrate our cultural superiority over the Earth Kingdom, Water Tribe, and lost Air Nomads,” she took a breath, shifting her gaze to make eye contact with each gamemaker as they began to take notes, “In training, you have seen my agility and athleticism. Today, I hope to show you how I intend to play in the Arena. Please, if you may, send a bender to the gym floor.”

Within the gamemakers’ suite, they whispered amongst themselves. Having heard rumors of Ty Lee’s fighting style, some anticipated her first demonstration. Still, for the sake of observation and integrity in their scoring, they volunteered a first-year gamemaker to make his way down.

Ty Lee stood with what a displaced excitement as the first-year stood opposite of her. She nodded, beckoning him to begin fighting for the sake of her glorification. With a deep breath, he looked to Zhao, who also nodded, signaling to him to _fight._ Despite the gamemaker’s strength, Zhao knew the volunteers could hold their own. The first-year drew his arms close to his core, drawing from his energy before stepping back and unleashing flames in Ty Lee’s direction. So good at avoiding attacks, he knew Ty Lee could sidestep a tame attack. As an uncontrolled flame unleashed itself from his fist, he surrounded her in fire.

Ducking, she moved counter to the flame, letting it fill the empty spaces of the gym, but always occupying the space not yet taken. With seconds, she stood behind him and unleashed her own attack. Jabbing each pressure point, she weakened to the flame until it extinguished. With one more poke, she stopped the next fire punch and pushed the temporarily-blocked fire bender out of her space. Bowing once again, she raised to sustain eye contact with Zhao this time, “The people will soon see that even the strongest benders from the other nations cannot stand rival to a non-bender from the Fire Nation. I fear none of the tributes.”

The first-year gamemaker started to regain his bending and pride and stood a little taller. As she spoke to the gamemakers in their bird’s eye nest, he made his way to the stairwell, just for her to stop her presentation to ask him to return, “I also don’t fear fire. Please light the net above me, I have one more demonstration.” She finished and turned on her heel to climb the pole at the back of the gym. Before the privates began, the gamemakers installed the trapeze and tight-rope, expecting Ty Lee to showcase her acrobatic skills. She gripped the trapeze as the gamemaker set the net under her ablaze.

Ty Lee wouldn’t show it, but she was nervous. However, she couldn’t let her demeanor reflect such internal fears. She needed to prove that she would outlast, triumph over, Zuko and fight a worthy game. Knowing her score could position her for a strong game, she jumped, letting herself fly above the blazing net. She flipped, catching her moving trapeze to continue her swing, yet she staged a fall. Letting go of the bar without a trick, she took the gamemakers’ breaths and held their attention until she landed on the tightrope. The ease of her movements masked the pressure Ty Lee held on the inside. She performed a flawless routine, presenting the gamemakers with a second place contender.

Some of the gamemakers tuned out as Toph entered the gym. Veteran gamemakers knew she would push the rock she used to waste Haru’s time. Some suspected she would put on an engaging performance. However, none really knew what to expect from her. Out of this year’s cohort she would be the tribute to hide her real strength from the tributes until they began in the Arena, but they still doubted her ability to turn the earth into a weapon.

Standing in her earth bending corners, she faced the wall. Though she could feel where in the walls their suite sat dug into the earth-framed room, she didn’t want to give them any more than what she needed to show them. As she introduced herself to the wall, she leaned against the rock she tried to push all week, “I’m the greatest earth bender in the world. That’s Toph Beifong if you’re still taking notes.” Immediately, she raised the rock, hoisting it to their eye-level before they could finish writing her name. She was the tribute to prepare a surprise for the Arena. Good for her.

Launching the rock into the opposite wall, Toph moved to raise the ground under feet and swim the floor until she stood elevated in the center of the gym. The rocks under her moved almost as naturally as one walked but with an added determination. She commanded a battle march—her against the gamemakers. However, once she solidified the attention from the gamemakers, she stood there, as if she hadn’t planned the rest of her private. She wanted to make the gym crumble over itself, bring down each wall but the one holding the gamemakers to send a message that she could destroy them.

However, she didn’t want them to restrain her like she did Jet. Toph needed to show them that she could destroy them, but not that she would. She needed to balance the attitude in her bending so that they understood her to be a ruthless fighter, but not one of Jet’s lackeys. She was bigger than that.

So she stood there. Keeping the walls intact, she stood with patience as she felt the gamemakers begin to tremble in their seats. They were waiting for her. She had let fear build within them, now she just needed to deliver. Repositioning her feet to a wider stance, she squatted and began to raise her hands, beckoning the earth within the wall holding their suite to come out of its dug-out. She turned out her back foot, sliding the suite out of the wall and closer to her platform without much noise, ensuring this remained between her and the gamemakers. Slowly, Toph began to unclench her fists, letting the ground beneath her enemies crumble to the gym floor until it the edge rescinded to Zhao’s toes. She raised her threat to him, but she didn’t fulfill it. Her delivery would wait until the Arena. Instead, she threw the gamemakers back into their hole in the wall. She relinquished her platform and exited the gym.

“I heard them say they’re about to take a short break.”


	11. 11

**11**

Suki stood in the center of the gym. Sandwiched in between Haru and Jet, she understood that the gamemakers would overlook her. Toph and Haru presented more of a threat to their royal children, as they could lob a boulder into their heads. Jet, though unable to bend, was an obvious loose cannon. After trying to duel Zuko, she hadn’t seen him until this morning. While she had a good grasp on what Haru would do for his private, she had no idea how Jet would perform after his release from isolation. She would be the forgettable one from her nation. As she picked up the fans set aside for her from the weapons rack, Suki knew she would have to do her best now, and make the most of her score.

“My name is Suki, and I’m from Kyoshi Island,” she woke up early that morning to do her warrior makeup. Despite their message that privates were to help them and give them a compelling story to encourage sponsors to donate to them, Suki knew this was a battle between her and the gamemakers. She couldn’t let them see her weaknesses today. “Just like Avatar Kyoshi, I value justice and will fight for it within the Arena.”

She turned, leaving the center to face the weapons launchers. She didn’t want the gamemakers to know her ability to fight, knowing that they would believe her unable to fight on the offense. Instead, she chose to only highlight her defensive skills. Misrepresenting her own skillset, Suki held out hope that the gamemakers would believe offensive as a weakness and guide her into situations where she needed to fight another tribute head-on. More than comfortable doing so, she welcomed this “disadvantage.”

Standing before the knife launcher, she drew her fans and slid them through the air to block incoming daggers. Taking command of their trajectory, she stopped the knives midair with her fans and pushed them away from her body. As another launcher to her left started, she began to move with such assuredness she looked as if she didn’t need her weapons. Graceful steps carried her to safety as she navigated a field of flying weapons.

Continuing her defensive presentation, Suki found confidence in knowing that she performed with strategy and the foresight to know she needed to protect herself more from the gamemakers’ later attacks in the Arena than the weapons launchers in front of her. She knew she performed well. However, Mai’s voice rang in the back of her head, reminding her that she was too good with the fans. It didn’t make sense for her to change her whole training performance in her private, but Suki walked out of the gym knowing that the Cornucopia wouldn’t have fans for her to use.

Sokka rose as soon as Yue closed the door behind her. His one chance to repair his image among the gamemakers before dropped in the Arena, he needed to do well. Katara had the people on her side to the point where the gamemakers would be honest in her scoring—ranking her as the real threat she possessed. She was fine. However, it didn’t help her if Sokka came out as the over-ambitious lackey to Jet. He needed to rebrand.

He assumed his center position to introduce himself, knowing that he needed to address his lie. The gamemakers knew he used a bogus reason in his interview to explain why he volunteered, “Sokka, volunteer from the Southern Water Tribe. As you know I am not fighting for the children back home,” While they knew he lied about the new teenagers in the South, they didn’t know he fought to protect his sister and he sought to keep it that way, “The Hunger Games are a microcosm of the war, an attempt to relieve the soldiers globally and let children duke it out. I volunteered to fight in the war, and I don’t anticipate being a soldier in the Arena, but instead a general.”

He turned away from the gamemakers’ nest before he could observe their reactions. Instead, he walked to the weapons rack and began laying out each weapon a tribute demonstrated competency with throughout the week. Once he lined up each of their weapon’s in their interview order, Sokka turned back to the gamemakers, who only looked disappointed. They finally had a volunteer from outside the Fire Nation, and he was a narcissistic peasant more focused on restoring glory to a failed state than he was with the actual Hunger Games.

“You won’t put half of these weapons in the Cornucopia,” He started sliding back weapons, starting with Yue’s bow and arrow, then moving to Suki’s fans, before finally removing Zuko’s broad swords, “Hotah and I will still have clubs and boomerangs—he’s not a competent enough water bender to be allowed without a weapon and you’ll offer me a boomerang because the people don’t want Katara to have dead weight for an ally,” He paused as he watched Zhao put down his ink, the gamemakers weren’t entertained with this, “Suki is too strong with the fans, she poses a threat to Ty Lee and Mai, who you can’t have lose to a non-bender from the Earth Kingdom. However, you give Jet his war hammer. It will sit obvious to him, but you’ll hide the hook swords so someone else can take them. You’re going to bait Jet to violently attack that tribute so he can have his swords, suddenly he’s not the moral revolutionary the occupied cities will initially see him as.

“Your Cornucopia rests on the premise that Katara and I stay together, but abandon Hotah. We keep Yue around without much loyalty. No one aligns themselves with Jet. You’re betting Suki will join Haru and Toph because she feels sympathetic toward Toph and can buy some time with benders. The Fire Nation girls remain a solid alliance, with Zuko following them at first. Without his broad swords, you signal to him that he needs to stay under Azula, or that he is not a welcomed victor.”

The first-year gamemakers kept writing, shocked that Sokka managed to keep track of the tributes in the same way they did. Sure, he missed a few projections, but he was closer than what he should’ve been. As he told them he would play their game with their same insight, Zhao and the other senior gamemakers sat with much less amazement. They needed to weaken him, prevent Sokka from playing like the Arena would.

“You’re expecting Zuko to sabotage himself. He took Jet’s bait once, so why would you expect him to fight honorably in the Arena. This plan forgets that he’s obsessed with preserving his position as the heir to the throne. Zuko will shape up and fight harder once it’s acceptable for him to lash out at anyone who stands in his way. The final five will see this, they’ll stay on Zuko’s good side to outlast the others, and they’ll buy time to figure out his anger.”

He left the weapons and walked back to the center of the gym. Fixated on Zhao’s disapproval of his performance, Sokka didn’t even look to the first-years whose amazed looks would have confirmed his accuracy and aptitude. They knew he presented the threat of a volunteer, despite his appearance of Icarus. Zhao, however, hated him. Sokka member of the Southern Water Tribe speaking out of his place and trying to charm his oppressors. Sokka improved his reputation among the gamemakers, but he failed to swing his favorability with their leader. He figured out their strategy and he learned the tributes, but he didn’t understand how to protect himself, fly under the radar, and be the sacrifice from the South Zhao wanted.


	12. 12

**12**

Knowing Azula and Zuko needed the suite to themselves to settle some differences, Mai and Ty Lee took their break in the courtyard. They positioned themselves near the window into the gym hallway, trying to guess how each tribute performed in their private from how they walked out. They wanted to forget, at least for a moment, that their scenery was about to change. Scores broadcasted tonight, and after the broadcast each tribute would be locked in their room until escorted to the Arena the next morning. They couldn’t strategize with each other after scores revealed. However, they were allowed to watch the rest of the broadcast—Joo Dee invited generals and gamblers to speak on what they made of each score. In especially competitive years, Zhao made an appearance. Mai felt confident that he would speak this year.

“Mai,” Ty Lee kicked at the dirt clumped around the fountain as Suki walked through hallway back to the Earth Kingdom suite, “How sure are you Azula’s going to win this year?”

“Are you asking if I think Zuko will win?”

She shook her head, unsure if she should even continue this conversation. But there were no guards around. They trusted the two volunteers and left them unsupervised in the courtyard, so even if this was a bad conversation it couldn’t matter too much, “I’m just asking if you think Azula will win.”

“She has to,” Mai sighed, unhappy with the enclosing reality of the Games, “I told you my dad was disapproving when Zuko asked me out. None of our military leaders besides Iroh like him,” She went quiet for a moment, trying to piece together what Ty Lee meant with her question, “I think there’s a shot Suki or Toph could win. We’re strong enough too, but we’re not supposed to win.”

“Only Azula’s supposed to win.”

“Are you saying you want to start a new alliance?” Mai lowered her voice, intrigued but a little unnerved, this wasn’t like Ty Lee. The two of them understood their role. They both agreed it was better to die for whoever the fire bender volunteers were than it was to be banished for not applying, “Do you even know how they would treat your victory? Ty Lee, if this is what you want let’s think this through.”

She swung her head back and forth, “I don’t want to be hated!” Choking back tears, Ty Lee tried to revise what she already said, “I just don’t think I want to _die,_ I mean that’s so permanent, and it’s so painful, I mean that Earth kingdom girl could slice us, or Toph said she would let us starve to death—that’s weeks of pain! Azula could electrocute us, and Hotah could drown us, like I know I don’t to be banished or hated, but why I don’t know if I want this.”

“Well, those are your only three options,” There wasn’t much more to discuss on the question. If Ty Lee really didn’t want a painful death, then she would have to outlast both of Ozai’s heirs. Not only would she upset the narrative of fire bender supremacy, but she would also cause a succession crisis while the Fire Nation was at war. Mai was starting to get increasingly comfortable with her death. Everything has to end. She applied for this, anyway.

Without her knives to twirl for distraction as they waited for the next tribute to walk, Mai reached into the fountain and danced her fingers along the surface of the water. Her and the rest of the volunteers used to play around a similar fountain—even back then it felt like she was submitting rather than waging a war against Azula. She wondered how the tributes felt—if they knew how obvious of a victor Azula was and if they thought they had a chance. Suki seemed to understand the Games with a knowing cynicism. Mai just didn’t know if Suki knew that she could make the final four. Maybe she would win and just send the Fire Nation into chaos at the expense of her sanity. But Azula would haunt Suki from the dead if that were to happen—Azula always wins no matter the circumstance.

“Mai!” Ty Lee pointed to Yue leaving the gym, ready to analyze her process her performance for the gamemakers. However, as Yue moved with caution and regret, the two soon realized her walk didn’t matter. The volunteer almost jogged to the doors—he had a plan and wanted to show them what he could do. “The boy looks a little too excited. What do you think he’s about to do?”

Mai looked up from the water to watch Sokka pursue the gamemakers with a misplaced eagerness. He gave a terrible interview and got roped in with Jet on accident. He was right about not volunteering to win, the kid was in over his head, but he seemed too invested in the Games for how he spoke. He would be interesting to watch, “He’s best with a boomerang, but I don’t know how he’ll fill fifteen minutes with that.”

“He’s kind of cute,” Ty Lee sat on the edge of the fountain, glad to find a distraction from her wave of dark thoughts, “Maybe if Azula kicks Zuko out of our alliance, we can invite him in! He seems like he’d be good at gathering intel for us.”

“You don’t really think she’s going to cut Zuko out of the alliance, do you?”

Ty Lee shrugged and sat back once Sokka closed the door behind him, “I think she should, he’s starting to really act like dead weight.” Still, Ty Lee knew how much Zuko meant to Mai. She couldn’t imagine what kind of dilemma her friend must feel now placed between him and her country. Still, she knew Mai was smart and wouldn’t risk it all for a boy. They all knew Zuko started self-sabotaging ever since the first dinner. “I think Azula’s going to decide depending on what the commentators say tonight. She has to maintain a good reputation among the people.”

“So let’s say she does kick Zuko out,” Mai crossed her legs, trying to get ahead of their first team discussion in the Arena, “You really think Sokka is the best addition to our alliance? Because he’s cute?”

“No, silly! I think he’s smart and he knows his place in this game—he always seems a bit too aware of his surroundings and he’s not trying to win. We can’t welcome in any power struggles. Who would you bring in?”

“Hotah,” this wasn’t a difficult question. Suki was the ideal ally, but Mai knew she couldn’t earn her trust; she didn’t deserve it anyway. Katara has a chip on her shoulder and will try to attack the volunteers with her full force, “He trained Katara and knows just how much she knows. He’s too scared to really fend for himself so we could drag him along, get what we need, kill Katara, and then toss him aside.” Easy.

Ty Lee grinned, knowing that the two of them were on a good track. As awful of a situation to be in, she was thankful to have Mai with her. She didn’t expect anything of Ty Lee except for her to be herself. As everyone watched each other and tried to exploit their weaknesses, she needed to be with someone sincere. “Let’s both keep an open mind.”

“He blew it,” Like a dog with his tail dragging between his legs, Sokka sulked out of the gym, painfully aware of how much Zhao wanted to orchestrate his demise, “Whatever he did must have really backfired because he looks surprised still,” the girls shifted to make sure they could watch him without being seen. Ty Lee offered her commentary, shocked at how the boy who seemed so assured on stage now looked weak in defeat. “What do you think he did? I can’t imagine he suddenly lost it with the boomerang…”

“Sh…”

He told Katara he had big plans for his private. They left their suite together this morning with both of them confident they would do well. Sokka and Katara stayed up late into the night ensuring they had a perfect strategy to obtain likeable scores and win sponsorships. Now, after watching Zhao look at him with disgust, he wasn’t ready to face his sister and warn her about his score. He sacrificed everything to help her survive, and here he was alienating the Southern Water Tribe tributes. She would’ve possessed a better chance of winning without him. Wallowing in his dismay, he turned into the courtyard. He needed a break before he had to explain himself.

Oblivious to Mai and Ty Lee on the side of the fountain, he strolled on the perimeter of the courtyard. The fresh air was nice, but it didn’t compensate for the immense feeling of failure consuming him. The other volunteers watched him in silence, unsure of how someone who didn’t believe they could win could look so pained after their private. He must have really messed up. Ty Lee thought he must have challenged the gamemakers. He was too collected throughout training to have just performed poorly. She looked to Mai, raising her eyebrows in a question to ask if she should go up to him. Mai shook her head—keeping an open mind about Zuko’s replacement didn’t mean preying upon Sokka in his lowest moment before entering the Arena.

“Hello!” She bounced up behind him, throwing him of his rhythm in sulking. He let out a yelp, unsure of who would’ve followed him, especially since Aang was still in his private. He turned with caution, knowing he was unarmed against any guard who might be ready to lock him in his dorm again. He didn’t know if it was a relief to see the acrobat from the Fire Nation instead of a guard. She was probably more dangerous, “You look pretty disappointed with your private,” Ty Lee slunk away from him a bit, speaking with sweetness and maintaining eye contact despite Sokka’s apparent fear, “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

He started walking away, but with each step she seemed to lean closer, “Not really…” After what seemed like an eternity in her entrapment, he broke her eye contact to look around, and didn’t see anyone else. But that didn’t make sense. The Fire Nation alliance never seemed to separate unless they were trying to intimidate or gather intel. Someone was hiding or she was trying to get something out of him. “You’ll find out what the gamemakers thought of it in a few hours.”

“Mmmm… You’re right, but we could get to know each other _now_ if you wanted to sit down for a bit. You looked stressed, Sokka.”

“I’m fine.”

She stepped to side of Sokka and started gently guiding him to walk toward the fountain. With Mai shielded by the spout, she knew she could get Sokka to sit without him knowing her friend was listening. “We don’t have to talk about your private, then. I bet you’re really good with strategy, if you wanted to see if we could find some common ground for an alliance.”

“Sokka, are you okay? You were gone for so long,” Katara barely spoke louder than the door Sokka slammed as he entered into the Water Tribe suite. Yue and Hotah already turned in for the night and resigned themselves to their rooms to watch their scores. Katara waited, though, knowing that Sokka must be in trouble, “Did the guards detain you for talking to Jet again?”

“No, it wasn’t Jet or a guard,” he blew past her and immediately sat down on his side of the couch without looking at her, “Ty Lee corned me after my private. The private itself was terrible, and then she found me and tried to seduce me into the volunteers’ alliance or something.”

“What?”

“I went to the courtyard for some fresh air, and she was just _there,_ and she was trying to flirt with me. I don’t know, Katara, but I’m sick of today. It’s all been weird.”

“Sokka, that’s really bad. Where do you think we go from here?”

“I don’t think I want to talk about it.”

Joo Dee sat at her desk and read through the score sheet Zhao just handed them. This year looked a lot different. The tributes were a lot stronger than normal. She knew she would have to emphasize Azula’s strength over the rest of them, but this group of scores would bring in a lot of sponsors. The Games would be interesting tomorrow.

“Greetings to all of our viewers—from those right here in the Capitol and across the globe! We are thrilled to have you tune in to learn about this year’s formidable group of tributes. Today they performed for the gamemakers to receive a score from one to twelve, with twelve representing the most dangerous tributes.” She scanned the crowd, gauging their anticipation for the scores. Following their interviews, the people throughout the Fire Nation began to root for Katara and Toph. They found sympathy for the women, wanting to uplift Katara and shield Toph as the games began.

Sokka sat at the edge of his bed, glued to the screen as if the movements of Joo Dee’s eyebrows would let him know his score. No, he would be the second to last announced. All the other tributes would hear their celebration or condemnation first, and he could compare himself to them.

“Let’s start with our beloved volunteers. As you remember, Fire Lord Ozai’s children are fighting for our people this year. Princess Azula wowed the gamemakers and is sure to be a force to reckon with in the Arena. Princess Azula scores a twelve. Prince Zuko follows her with a six.” She paused to let the audience sit with the fact that Zuko scored as low as an earth bender would in years past. He was not their heir. No fire bender ever scored lower than ten, Zuko paved new ground as their first failure. “Ty Lee, one of the non-bending volunteers, scores a nine. Mai, our final volunteer, scores a nine as well.”

Sokka took notes as she spoke, scribbling off to the side what he thought they did to earn their scores. Ty Lee must’ve been wanting something from him that Zuko wasn’t giving them. Interesting.

“Toph Beifong, the blind earth bender, scores a ten,” the highest any tribute outside of the Fire Nation ever scored. She was hiding something or the gamemakers wanted to place a massive target on her back. “Haru scores a five. Suki scores a six.” She was also scoring too high for her status, Sokka noted. She scared the gamemakers and must be stronger than what he initially thought. Jet, the man willing to commit a genocide against innocent audience members, scores a one.”

He started to grow nervous. Him and Zuko were too connected to Jet in the gamemakers’ eyes, and that was going to taint his score in addition to his poor performance today. Regardless of his score, he needed Katara to do well as they announced the Water Tribe tributes. If they tanked her, then she wouldn’t get sponsors, and the gamemakers would have not duty to give her some shot at survival. Still, he knew she could hold her own. He just didn’t want the avoidable hardship.

“And now the Water Tribe tributes that so impressed everyone during their interviews,” He broke into a cold sweat as she paused for anticipation, “Katara of the Southern Water tribe scores a nine.” Sokka and Katara, divided by their bedroom wall, both jumped off their beds yelling with excitement. She did it—she secured some semblance of safety. While she just received a bigger target, she had a following to prevent Zhao from immediately striking against her with the Arena.

“Hotah scores a four. Princess Yue scores a three. Sokka, the bold volunteer from the South, scores a two.” Joo Dee breezed past this kick to his game to announce Avatar Aang’s eleven. He didn’t realize he had done _that_ bad to score lower than tributes years before him. Most years, a three represented the weakest tribute or their Icarus. Jet was an obvious one. But Sokka was their enemy. His training week hit the wrong nerve, and as they entered the Arena, the gamemakers wanted to make a demonstration of Sokka.

With this year’s competitive cohort now revealed, Joo Dee initiated a parade of guest speakers to comment on what the audience could expect this year. The better who predicted every single victory with accuracy—including those of earth benders’—led the wealthy Fire Nation spectators in how they should place their bets. He walked through who couldn’t make it past day one, “You’re fooling yourself if you place money on Jet, Yue, or Haru,” and told the content betters to expect gruesome deaths. This group was agile and perceptive. No one would be dying from booby traps or accidents. He expected close combat death matches.

“Now, Sir, please indulge us in who you think will win. Do you think you have a final four in sight?” Joo Dee asked this question with the most sincerity in her career. Most years the better told her the Fire Nation volunteers, but some years he threw in an earth bender and a scrappy non-bender. While he didn’t always guess the correct four, he always knew the victor.

This year he struggled. Toph, Aang, and Katara scored too high. The last earth bending winners scored eights. Off numbers alone, your final four included them against Azula, with her winning to succeed Ozai as the Fire Lord. However, Sokka and Suki presented interesting questions—his score didn’t match his interview, suggesting he needed the disadvantage, and Suki scored the same as the crowned price, the highest a tribute non-bender ever did.

“The final four is anybody’s game, Joo Dee,” he started, careful with his words knowing his honesty slighted the Fire Nation, “The Fire volunteers are strong this year, there’s no doubt about that. However, I don’t think any of them are guaranteed a spot. It’s going to be a blood bath.”

“Do you have a winner to announce?”

“Azula.” He was certain of that—mostly. She had to win, and the gamemakers wouldn’t let someone else make it out alive. Maybe Zuko, but he thought a kid would try to kill the prince before the gamemakers had to. Azula had to fight more than what they must have anticipated, but she would win.


	13. 13

**13**

The gamemakers kept each kid isolated until they stood on their platform before the Cornucopia. Escorted out of their dorms at staggered times, each tribute was assigned a guard to keep them from strategizing in response to last night’s broadcast. The escort ranged in civility from each tribute—Azula walked side by side with Lo and Li as they shared advice wither her, Mai and Ty Lee moved cordially with distinguished guards, Sokka and Katara were fire-cuffed and directed where to walk, Jet was pushed down the hallways until finally thrown onto his platform seconds before it rose from the underground to the Arena.

The Arena itself was part of the game. The gamemakers designed a terrain fitting for the cohort, but also engineered mind games and targeted attacks for individual tributes. The demeanor of their guard initiated the Arena, as it revealed that without the safety of training, the Fire Nation real privileges began. As Jet regained his balance on the platform while it rose from the underground bunker, he struggled to know what to expect of the Arena. Isolated from the tributes for four days, he knew Azula and Zuko were strong benders and that was about it. The Avatar wanted to do away with the Games—other than that, Jet’s missteps in the gym rendered him clueless today.

Still, the Arena didn’t surprise him much. His platform sat upon red rocks, and the landscape remained incredibly flat until just before the horizon. Far, but still within his eyesight, the Arena became mountainous. Tributes could hide if they wanted to, but it would take a lot of endurance to even make it to a hiding spot. The water benders must be ferocious, or else the gamemakers wouldn’t have been so obvious with putting them at a disadvantage. Still, Jet needed to focus on ending the Fire Nation. He could figure out the Water Tribe later.

Meanwhile, Katara and Sokka stood on their separate platforms terrified. There was no water in sight. There had to be something—or else _everyone_ was at an equal risk of death by dehydration. The gamemakers hid the water, though. Katara posed that much of a threat that she must be placed at an environmental disadvantage. Both her and her brother struggled to reconcile the desert with her status as an early fan favorite. They couldn’t punish her too much—or else the gamemakers would lose legitimacy with the Fire Nation citizens.

Sokka stopped dwelling to examine the Cornucopia. From his vantage point, he was right about what weapons the gamemakers would offer. He was too right—they couldn’t change their plan after his private because they needed the situations he predicted. He watched Suki come to terms with the absence of fans. She must’ve known this was coming, meaning she’s smart. He knew she was strong and bold, but he wished she wasn’t smart. This only made the game tougher. Instead of watching Jet fixate on the war hammer and Zuko struggle to find his missing broad swords, Sokka instead focused on locating his boomerang and the clubs. There was a club in between him and Hotah, which presented a dare from the gamemakers for the two of them to immediately sabotage the Water Tribe alliance. Other than that, all of his weapons rested near the top of the Cornucopia. He needed to climb.

Just as Suki started to grow concerned with how Toph could handle the Cornucopia, the final ten-second countdown began over the loud speakers. She didn’t have time to figure out how to save the girl from the bloodbath. Suki would have to find her later on if Toph survived to help her navigate the Arena. Well, maybe with a ten Toph actually didn’t need Suki’s guidance.

Hotah felt a rage growing inside him as he looked to Sokka, then to the war club, and then to Sokka. The volunteer had good aspirations, but Hotah knew he was hiding something more malicious. Sokka would kill him now that he was forced to choose between the ally he continued to ignore the past few days and his weapon of choice. Hotah needed to be ready to run faster than him and kill him before he could rip the club from his hands.

3… 2… 1…

The sound of a cannon pushed each tribute to run—Ty Lee, Aang, Haru, and Yue turning away from the Cornucopia and starting toward the mountains—into the murder frenzy Fire Lord Ozai orchestrated. As Hotah dived from his platform toward the club, Azula, calmly standing at his diagonal, introduced her lightening to the Games and shot at his heart. His body fell to the ground, his fingers just an inch away from the club that Sokka grabbed while running toward the Cornucopia. As Sokka charged toward the weapons stockpile near the top of the structure, Azula turned her energy toward the people trying to seek refuge away from the bloodbath.

No one was exempt from that first hour of the Games. Just because they were cowardly and wanted to run away didn’t give them an excuse. As Azula readied her lightening to strike the runners, Aang started to sweep the air surrounding him and Yue to protect them midair from Azula’s aim. Surrounded by death and destruction, Aang entered into the Avatar State to summon the strength to defend himself and others from the volunteers’ early attacks. However, as he entered the Avatar State, Azula angled upwards, keeping a lock on Aang’s body as he rose in the sky. Before anyone could notice that she was executing the runners, she ended the Avatar cycle. Aang fell from the sky, taking Yue down with him. No one ran to their rescue. They just laid there, bodies jumping with the remaining electricity flowing through their blood.

Zuko watched the fall. His sister just murdered the Avatar. Deep down, he knew it would happen. He wanted to be the one to earn their father’s pride in ending their opponents’ hope in the war, but Azula was always the one to please him. Even if it meant killing the young boy who ran away from the fight, the boy who tried to protect those around him even if it cost him a chance at escaping Azula’s wrath. Zuko knew he needed to stick with Azula. Mai didn’t pay mind to Azula, though. With her back to Zuko, she already obtained a batch of daggers and throwing knives. She knew her friend was in over his head, so she made sure to act on a swivel. While Mai couldn’t guarantee that Azula would let Zuko stay in their alliance, she could at least get him through the Cornucopia. He gained focus, realizing that the kids around him scaled the Cornucopia for a chance at food and others already tried attacking each other. Mai, buying him time, threw her knives in Suki’s direction.

As the Kyoshi warrior reached for a sword, the knives slid through her shirt fabric, pinning her against the structure of the Cornucopia. Mai surveyed the terrain once she made sure Suki was of no concern—Katara couldn’t bend, she seemed to trail Sokka as he climbed to the top. He exposed himself for a boomerang. If he got up there he would be an easy target for Azula. Jet thought he could attack Azula. Both Mai and Azula knew he was about to make a swing at her head. The princess was just waiting to take a step to the side, letting him fall on his own weight. Toph followed the Southern Water Tribe kids into the Cornucopia, but she focused on the food more than the weapons. Mai watched her and Katara come into contact when they both found a canteen with water. She’d seen enough. Mai grabbed Zuko by his collar and started running with him in the same direction as Ty Lee. The Cornucopia wasn’t their fight.

Meanwhile, Sokka knew a lightning strike was waiting for him at the top. Here to protect Katara, he started thinking ahead. No one could know the two of them were siblings because that would only draw attempts to use them against each other. With Hotah and Yue dead, the Water Tribe alliance was just the two of them. They could fight together and not raise suspicion. However, protecting Katara also meant ensuring she didn’t watch her brother get struck by lightning. He lowered himself on the Cornucopia and grabbed onto the rungs a bit tighter. As Toph and Katara fought for the canteen below him, he swung down just low enough to kick the canteen away from both of them—forcing them to climb down away from him if they really wanted the water—before lifting himself back up.

Sure enough, the girls followed the water. He climbed faster, hoping he could outpace Azula’s predictions of him. He tried to stay low, never throwing his head over the structure to get a view of the aftermath. Once the boomerang was in reaching distance, he shot his hand up to grasp it before throwing himself down. He figured the fall would be softer than Azula’s tracker glare on his descent. If he could remain a bit unpredictable, he pushed back his death, even if it meant a harsh land on the red rocks.

He landed on his back, wincing, but glad to be behind the Cornucopia. Even the smallest distance between him and the princess meant the world to him for the time being. Sokka opened his eyes to Suki, one of the other non-benders, trying to rip herself out of the knives’ entrapment. Mai seemed to pin her clothes from multiple angles against the structure, and the knives went deep, leaving Suki to try to rip herself out from under them. Sokka stood up, whispering, “Let me help you,” to make sure any tributes on the other side didn’t hear his generosity. 

Suki grabbed the sword as soon as she could move, “Thanks.” She looked to Sokka, trying to gauge whether he actually helped her or if he was about to strike. He didn’t immediately move against her. Instead, he shuffled through his new collection of knives from Mai. He wasn’t running from the Cornucopia and he wasn’t trying to strangle the life out of Suki. Either he was planning a death more vibrant for her or he wanted her as an ally. Regardless, she needed to keep an eye on him.

“Here,” he extended his hand, holding three of the six knives that had just held her up against the Cornucopia, “I figured we should split the weapons. I’m not gonna try to withhold them from you. We can be partners. Let’s start moving.” He nodded in the opposite direction from the mountains.

“You want to go further into the desert?” She understood his two. He was bat-shit crazy, but he thought his delusion of boldness were intelligent.

“In a moment,” Sokka shoved his half of the knives in a pocket and ran back into Azula’s vision to grab Jet’s arm before she could off him. To the cameras circling the Cornucopia, Sokka organized his non-bender alliance early on. He pulled Jet to where Suki stood ready to run into the exposed desert. While she didn’t agree with whatever merit Sokka saw in going away from the side that could provide shelter, she didn’t think now was the time to make a run by herself. This kid thought he could be a warrior, so maybe there was some merit in working with him until she was ready to break off from the alliance.

“Now, why do you think Sokka would take Suki and Jet into the desert, Zhao?” Joo Dee sat with the head gamemaker on stage before a live audience as they streamed the opening hours of The Hunger Games in the central square. Though the crowd roared when their princess killed the Avatar, they also gasped when Mai took Zuko at the thought of an ill-fated romance, and now they held their breath watching the volunteer go against the grain.

Zhao sighed, hating how the kid from the South was making himself a main character this year. He was thankful when Sokka kicked the canteen away from Katara. Zhao had to lay off of the water bender for a bit so the audience could enjoy her, and now that the Southerners were separated he could turn the Arena against Sokka. “Well, Joo Dee, you have to remember Sokka was the one who volunteered, and still said he wasn’t playing to win. The men in his tribe left before he could become a man, and now he feels like he has something to prove.” Zhao sat back in his chair, signaling to the crowd his obvious distaste for the volunteer—they should root against him too— “He and Jet seemed to connect in training. They’re both arrogant, and my guess is Sokka thinks Jet will balance him in grit while Sokka leads in strategy. Suki? She’s strong-willed and a force to reckon with in the gym. He was smart to save her in the Cornucopia, but I’m personally surprised he split the knives 50/50 with her.”

“Why? It seemed like a nice gesture to me. They’re starting their alliance on equal ground, and it signaled trust in a dangerous situation.” The camera was lucky to catch Sokka’s face as he counted out their knives and looked to her. While his trust may be unfounded, it looked sincere to the audience.

“Exactly. Joo Dee, once you see Suki in action, you’ll wonder why Sokka thought he could stand on equal footing with her.”

Sokka led them far enough into the dessert so that the Cornucopia was small in the distance. No other tributes came in this direction. After it became apparent that they all either set up camp in the Cornucopia or fled to the mountains, Suki and Jet realized Sokka was trying to let the other tributes kill each other before the non-bender alliance went back into the game.

“Do you have a strategy, Sokka, or did we just run away?” Suki leaned back onto her hands once the group sat down to rest after hiking away. She wasn’t sure what she thought of this alliance yet. It was demeaning to sit across from the two lowest-scoring tributes, but she also knew their scores reflected their inability to put up with the theatrics of the Games. They were strong, they just didn’t play along well with the gamemakers. Still, that meant she sat alone with the two biggest targets in the Arena.

“I’m thinking we spend the night here,” he started, “They’re waiting to launch the cannons until the end of the day, since its just the first day. Once we see who’s dead, I want to reevaluate going back to the Cornucopia to scavenge leftovers and then make our way to the mountains.” What he left out, was he also planned to kill Jet before the cannons went off. By the looks of the setting sun, he had an hour to do so. He wanted the rest of the cohort to know either him or Suki could do it, and he wanted the gamemakers to know Sokka wasn’t aligned with Jet. This was his plan since he was thrown in an isolation cell solely because him and Jet talked on the first training day. He had to distance himself.

Jet flickered his eyes between the two. Sokka hadn’t talked to him since day one. Once Jet suggested the smallest revolutionary act to the volunteer, Sokka shirked. The kid was a coward, but he still saved Jet from Azula. He didn’t get him. Suki had a better read on him, and Jet trusted Suki. Before he went into isolation, the two of them seemed to be on a similar wavelength. He could give Sokka the night—he was right about getting some distance before they figured out who they were supposed to fight.

Sokka looked to Suki. Killing Jet right now could lose her trust in an instant. Suddenly, he no longer formed an alliance, he just cornered the two of them so he could rack up a body count. How was he supposed to tell her he only needed to distance himself with Jet, and that he actually did want to work with Suki? He figured she would kill him right after in self-defense. And that would be a valid reaction. But he would be dead.

A little further off, he saw a cactus. It must store water. They didn’t need water yet, but it provided him an excuse to plan in private with Suki before handling Jet. He set down his war club, keeping his boomerang on his leg, and let the knives slide next to the club. “We should set up camp for the night. There’s a cactus with some water a few meters away, which we’ll want when we wake up. I say Jet should stay here, watch the weapons, and Suki and I should go grab water for the morning.”

“Why are we leaving the weapons here? He was up to something; she just didn’t know what. Sokka hadn’t approached her before and his swiftness to start an alliance with her was unsettling.

“No one else came this direction, so we don’t need them,” He understood her apprehension. Sokka respected it because he would feel the same were their positions reversed, “I’m taking my boomerang to cut open the cactus. I’m trying to solidify an alliance, though, so I want to show you that I trust you and don’t need every weapon possible on me when we go for a walk.”

“I think I’ll keep my sword on me as we walk.”

“That’s valid.”

Jet nodded. Unsure of what dynamic the two of them built during training, he assumed Sokka was overly trusting, and not the strategist he actually was. Suki was right to keep armed with a tribute—no matter what he said—near her. Still, Jet agreed to watch their supplies.

Sokka started whacking his boomerang at the arm of the cactus, hoping the sounds would mask his conversation, “We need to kill Jet.” Suki didn’t react. She stood there with the same expression, and Sokka didn’t know how to respond. Was she going to just kill him now? Was it stupid to explain himself? Why didn’t she seem to register what he just said? “The gamemakers associate both of us with him, and they’re going to do everything they can to make sure he dies a brutal death on camera.”

She crossed her arms, following him, but not wanting to let Sokka on to her thought process. “So why’d you bring him with us?” She knew he wanted to signal to the gamemakers that he hated Jet, and that he didn’t support any of the ‘fuck the Fire Nation’ attitude Jet walked around with. She needed to hear it from him, though.

“Even if we ran away from him, the gamemakers would still think we were a group. The audience watched the two of you interact at the start of interviews together—you looked ready to punch a guard, you’re not innocent to them—and my score is right next to his. I want to take charge of my reputation in the Arena tonight, and get rid of him before he can endanger us.”

“So why am I here?”

“I actually want to be your ally!” His shoulders slouched toward her and his eyes lit up just a bit, when he forgot about his hatred for Jet and fear of the gamemakers, Sokka admired Suki. For the first time, he let himself look boyish. Still, Suki wasn’t going to let one sincere look convince her Sokka was trustworthy. She raised an eyebrow, signaling to him that she wanted clarifications, “I’m talking to you unarmed. I actually want to work with you, and I didn’t want to do something that would make you lose all trust for me.”

He whacked the boomerang a bit harder, trying to hide their conversation more as they got back to the topic of Jet. Suki took over the conversation, “I won’t stop you from doing what you think needs to be done to clear your name with the gamemakers. I’m with you on Jet, and I appreciate this conversation,” Just because Sokka didn’t lose her trust, he didn’t earn it with their cactus sidebar. Suki suspected that there was more to him than what he let on to the tributes, and she didn’t want to be on the wrong side of his enigma. He finally sliced the cactus arm, producing a cup of water for their morning, “Let’s get this over with.”

Suki and Sokka walked back to their sorry excuse for a campsite. Together, they had a cup of cactus juice, six of Mai’s knives, a sword, war hammer, club, boomerang, two blankets, and a compass. Jet managed to get a fire started while his allies plotted his death. The alliance sat back down around the fire. With the sun still setting, they weren’t ready to divide the blankets and try to get to sleep. They were going to stay up to watch the announcement of the fallen and try to figure out a plan for the next day.

No one really knew what to say. Jet was a leader back home. He knew how to survive and incite those around him to rebellion. However, he felt powerless in the Arena. After days in a Fire Nation isolation cell, the boy thought himself lost in this desert. He wasn’t ready to tell his allies that, though. He needed to look strong for the fight, even if strength in the Arena looked different from strength in the Earth Kingdom.

Before Suki tried to break the uncomfortable silence, Sokka reached for his war club—the one Hotah was ready to kill Sokka for. The tool felt heavy with sin and grief and regret already. Gripping it with both hands, he whispered an apology just soft enough for Jet to hear, I don’t want to do this, he muttered, I have to do this and I’m sorry. You don’t deserve this. No one deserves this. He lifted the club to his eye level and swung it directly into Jet’s forehead. As the boy fell onto his back, Sokka moved with him, sitting on top of him to restrict his movement and breath, and continued to bring the club down. He felt the air leave his body and grow cold. Sokka told the Fire Nation that he didn’t know if he could become a killer, but he would try. He didn’t have to kill Jet to protect Katara. This was his own self-interest. And in the desert, he became a killer, with no ambiguity, he became a man, but not one his father would be proud of.

“Let’s set up camp away from here.”


	14. 14

**14**

Hotah. Yue. Aang. Jet. Haru must have escaped before Azula could hit him with lightening. The volunteers’ alliance figured Sokka killed Jet—Azula watched him grab Jet away from the Cornucopia and he had a good motive. Zuko took issue with Sokka grabbing Jet just to kill him later—if he wanted him dead he would’ve just left him near Azula. However, the girls didn’t think Suki would’ve killed Jet so early in the game. Mai felt as if she wouldn’t actually kill another tribute until she had to or out of self-defense.

Ty Lee shot Mai a knowing look once the group ruled that Sokka killed Jet. Neither her or Mai wanted unnecessary blood on their hands. Azula and Zuko were the killers of the group, and Ty Lee figured Zuko wouldn’t last the night with the alliance. Why not try to bring Sokka in with them? Hotah died, so Mai’s vote on their new ally wasn’t an option. If he was as smart and cruel as she thought he was, Ty Lee would advocate for his inclusion. They needed a guard dog to fight the battles beneath Azula. This was a topic for later discussion, though.

“Zuzu,” Azula started, now that they reflected on the first day, she needed to solidify her final alliance, “Are you here to explain your six, or are you just trying to have your last bit of time with family?” Before scores released, Azula already felt confident that Zuko would just drag their group down. She understood the importance for it to look like the royal family stayed together in the Arena, but ultimately everyone knew only one of them would make it out. With the lowest score in Fire Nation history, he might as well just let Haru or Katara kill him tonight. She thought he was an embarrassment, and she wasn’t going to demean herself by working alongside her brother.

Zuko wasn’t dumb. He knew what Azula thought of his score. Even before then, Zuko knew he was on borrowed time with her and her friends. Before entering the Arena, he planned on playing a solo game. Iroh told him not to make enemies—he didn’t know how to make allies and Azula was just waiting for an excuse to deem him her enemy. But he could leave tonight and play by himself. He already made enemies of Suki and Jet during training, but Jet was dead. He thought he hurt Mai in his interview, but she still cared enough to get him away from the Cornucopia before he came to his senses. She was the only reason he was here tonight. He knew he wasn’t welcome with Azula and Ty Lee, and he didn’t know why Mai brought him back into the group. Maybe she thought was helping, or maybe he really did hurt her in his interview. “I was just about to leave,” He rose up and stood for a second—looking between the girls he grew up with. This was really it. Zuko turned to Mai, but kept silent, almost hoping she would stand up and walk away with him on her own volition.

She stayed on the ground. Zuko turned over his shoulder without saying good-bye. This was it. With just the clothes on his back, he started walking back toward the Cornucopia. He didn’t want to be in the same sector of the Arena as his sister. She owned the mountains, and would terrorize anyone who thought they could find refuge there. Suki took to the desert, and he knew she would go for his head if he drew near. So Zuko hoped the Cornucopia was unoccupied. And if it was, he would just have to take his destiny into his hands when he got there. 

Mai couldn’t bring herself to watch him walk away from them. The fire he lit still blazed in the middle of their circle, and she felt guilty watching the flames dance until they leapt into the air. She knew she made the wrong decision by not following him. But she wouldn’t have been alive to make the right decision. Mai turned her face from the fire and instead watched Ty Lee. Her friend was too focused on figuring out if she could get Azula’s approval to recruit Sokka into the alliance. Ty Lee didn’t know this, but if she succeeded, then their volunteers’ alliance would finally be composed of all the volunteers. However, Mai knew. It didn’t convince her that Sokka was any better of a potential ally than he was 24 hours ago, but it might shake things up. Not that anyone but her, Ozai, Zhao, and Zuko would know.

Azula sat tall, unbothered by Zuko’s exit. With him gone, she could finally lay out her game plan for her friends. She started speaking without checking to make sure no tributes crept behind them, “Alright, we need to get the Southerners out early. Both Sokka and Katara have stayed longer than their welcome,” With her finger, Azula drew the three sectors of the Arena and labeled approximately where the siblings ran off too, “We know Katara got water in the Cornucopia, so she’ll try to bend. Sokka already killed Jet, so he’ll be on an ego trip when we face him. The bender has no allies that we know of, but I think she’ll take to Haru if they connect in the mountains. So we have Sokka and Suki, and then Katara and maybe Haru to face.”

Nervous to speak against Azula, Ty Lee pulled her knees up to her chest and braced herself for backlash, “Actually, I think we’d be better off if we didn’t make Sokka an early target.” Azula sat with a stone-cold expression, not amused, but not angered at the idea—she needed to know more, “Let’s humble him on his ego trip. We can reel him into our alliance and have him settle the easy fights. We’ll look tougher with a guard dog, and I’m sure he’s planning something big right now. If we can take charge and control him, we’ll know before he tries anything.” Mai nodded along as Ty Lee spoke, giving her support to help Azula accept her idea. While Mai was skeptical at first, the more Ty Lee spoke, the better of a strategy it seemed. Ty Lee just needed to be ready to manipulate Sokka.

“That’s actually not a bad idea.”

“You think so?” Ty Lee’s eyes lit up at Azula’s acceptance. For the first time since her private, she felt capable. It was such a gamble to share her idea, and now she felt freer to speak among the group, “I’m thinking that we wait for Sokka and Suki to make their way to the mountains, and then we’ll get her out of the question and draw him into the group.”

“No,” Azula shook her head, and added Zuko’s name to her map in the dirt, “Everyone but Zuzu, Sokka, and Suki are in the mountains right now. Unless they’re exceptionally bloodthirsty, those non-benders aren’t going to venture this far for a few days. We need to go on the hunt tomorrow.”

“Suki?” He stared into the stars. Like salt spilled across the sky, everything above him felt endless. He could convince himself he was home for a moment. The sky looked so similar, but he felt like such a different person that he knew he wasn’t home, “Are you asleep?”

“Are you about to try to convince me that you don’t want to kill me again?” She rested her head on her hands and also stared into the sky. She felt dirty. A spectator tonight, she could’ve intervened and saved Jet. She just let Sokka brutally kill this boy who never meant to wrong him before the gamemakers. “Because if so, I’m asleep.”

“I wasn’t going to try to convince you of anything.”

She knew he was up to something, but he managed to keep her guessing still. A red flag. Suki watched him for a week in training and struggled to get a complete read on him. A warrior, she was observant and could gauge her opponents before they had a chance to strike her. But with Sokka she struggled. “What do you want?” If she was honest with herself for a second, she hated how quickly she fell into an alliance with Sokka. He made her feel out of control—he kept taking the lead and only consulted her on already-made decisions so she wouldn’t act outside of his plans when she was left out of the loop.

“I can’t fall asleep,” He rolled his head to the side, now looking at Suki’s profile instead of the stars. She didn’t look like home. She looked like the witness to his darkest moment. “I don’t like what I did—who I became.”

“You said you had to do it,” She didn’t look to him, “Or else the gamemakers would target you.”

“My dad probably watched tonight. Did you ever kill anyone with the Kyoshi Warriors?”

She took a slow inhale in an attempt to ground herself in reality. None of this felt real, and if he hadn’t mentioned her home she might have started to drift, “I trained to. Avatar Kyoshi believed that only justice could bring peace, so if death is the only option, then I’m ready. But up until now, there’s always been other options.”

“Do you think you’ll kill anyone here?”

“I’m ready to if I need to.” She wanted this conversation to end. This was strange. She didn’t want to heal him of the guilt from killing Jet. Suki just wanted an ally, and Sokka was making their relationship too personal. Suki didn’t think he realized that if they truly worked as an alliance, then one of them would have to kill the other. She didn’t know if she would kill Sokka. Neither of them had the strongest chance at final two. But when she thought about it, if it did happen, she probably would. However, every time she thought of their end, she couldn’t erase the memory of his interview, talking about the kids back home. Did they need him more than she needed to survive? No. She would kill him if it came down to it. “Let’s go for a walk. If neither of us can sleep, we might as well see if there’s supplies left in the Cornucopia or explore this side of the desert.”

He nodded and started rolling up his blanket as he sat up. He flicked the red dirt off his backside and looked to Suki to see if she was leading their walk, or if they were doing this together. She had already started toward the Cornucopia, forcing him to jog until he fell into step with her. She acted above it all. Like none of this surprised her. Suki just rolled with the punches the gamemakers threw at her, and she seemed to go on unbothered, if anything, she just emerged more determined to win. “You and the gloomy girl get along, right?”

“Mai?” She wished he was comfortable with silence, “I don’t know if ‘get along’ is the best phrase. She’d probably kill both of us without hesitation to protect Princess Azula.”

“But the two of you talked a lot during training.”

With a smirk, she turned the conversation away from herself, “I could say the same thing about you and Jet.” She watched him slow his pace and struggle to determine whether or not her quip increased his guilt or raised his defenses. A few hours ago, he would’ve assumed defense to protect his reputation from Jet’s shadow. Now, Suki watched him bite his tongue to keep quiet, unsure of how he felt. “It’s different. I know. I enjoyed talking with Mai, she’s genuine and kept lunches more interesting than Haru did when I ate with him. But she’s a Fire Nation volunteer, so I can’t say much else good about her.”

“Do you have a problem working with me even though I volunteered?”

“You didn’t volunteer to kill kids just so your imperial nation looks stronger. I don’t love the fact that you chose to be in this hell, but you didn’t do it for your own entertainment. It’s different. I think you’re still respectable.”

“What do you mean for my entertainment?”

Suki figured it was okay for her to share this. Who was Sokka going to tell? Katara? And then what? Everyone would know Mai was a rich kid with sadistic tendencies. That’s basically common knowledge here. “Her school makes their highest ranking students volunteer or else they’re practically banished. She told me she wanted to get picked, though, because this is more entertaining than her regular life.”

“That’s disturbing.”

“She’s from the Fire Nation. Her dad’s a gamemaker most years. I don’t know why either of us would expect something different.”

Sokka finally got comfortable with the silence. That, or maybe he just grew tired. Suki appreciated the reprieve, though. If she let herself forget about everything, it was a nice night. The atmosphere almost felt like nothing—not warm nor chilly, no breeze—it was just there. She didn’t let herself enjoy this fantasy for long, though. Ever the realist, Suki wouldn’t delude herself. Instead, she started thinking to if anyone would still be in the Cornucopia. In all honesty, she would be surprised if there were supplies left. When her and Sokka left, Azula was still there, ready to shoot anyone who crossed her path. It only made sense that Azula grabbed as much of the supplies as she could for the rest of her alliance.

Despite the uselessness of their mission, this was better than lying next to Sokka as he tried to process who he was becoming. She didn’t feel much sympathy for him. He asked to be in the Arena, so he knew what was coming. He told Joo Dee he would try to become a killer. If anything, the more she listened to him contemplate and regret, the more Suki started to question his integrity. There could be more to Sokka than he let on. The volunteering for the kids story was probably a lie the more she thought about it. Sokka was strong. He knew what he was doing with his weapons, and he was smart. He could protect more of his tribe if he stayed to defend them if the Fire Nation attacked, than if he just volunteered in the place of one eleven-year-old.

He was still her ally, but she was going to keep him at a distance.

Once they reached the Cornucopia, the two split, walking with care in between the platforms. On the off chance someone stayed, they could’ve re-programmed the platforms as explosives to defend themselves. Once they made it within the ring, Sokka took to the scaling the Cornucopia again. Earlier, he grabbed the boomerang and fell without a chance to examine what else was at the top. From the looks of the structure, Sokka was the only one to get that high. As he climbed, Suki drew her sword and walked into the mouth of the Cornucopia. The closer she drew to the structure, the warmer it grew. At first, she thought this was just the walls breaking any bit of wind.

But there was no wind that night. A few steps in, she realized a fire bender sat within the Cornucopia. No one else could’ve made a fire within it and not set the whole thing ablaze. No, someone was controlling the flame to keep themselves warm for the night. She reached into her pocket and slid out one of the throwing knives Sokka gave her. Azula or Zuko must be on the other side of the Cornucopia’s structure. She could feel their fire, but couldn’t see a shadow just yet. She took a step closer to the interior corner. Still no greater visibility. She took another step closer. Unable to make out the shape of the fire bender, she still managed to get a decent idea of where the fire was.

She threw the knife over the corner, aiming it to go through the fire and then to its bender. Still without a shadow visible to her, Suki knew they sat across the flame or on the wall. She had a 50/50 shot at hitting them. It was better to scare them now, though, than let them hear her steps when she got too close. When Zuko let out a cry, she knew the hot knife hit something.

“Who’s there?” He bellowed, trying to convince himself that Mai didn’t come here to kill him. She wouldn’t do that. Azula was evil, but Mai wasn’t. Mai wouldn’t hunt him down tonight like that. Instead, Suki stood in silence, trying to listen for Sokka rummaging through supplies. She heard metal hitting the rocks outside the Cornucopia. He wasn’t about to slide down the inside and sneak behind Zuko. This was her fight. She crept forward, letting Zuko try to compress his bleeding abdomen and the fear of Mai approaching to kill him. On the corner, she threw one more knife, this time with better aim. Zuko knew something was coming now. He dodged, missing the blade that was so clearly meant for his scared eye, and instead let it nick the top of his ear off. Mai didn’t toy with her opponents like this tribute was. She must’ve still been at the volunteer camp.

Holding his first wound and ignoring the ear, Zuko rose to his feet just as Suki, wielding her sword with confidence, turned the corner. He didn’t give himself time to process why she was there or what she could do. Without a second thought, Zuko punched through the fire separating the two tributes, expanding the flame and sending it in Suki’s direction. It overwhelmed the Cornucopia, wrapping Suki in its flames and burning the wall behind her. She managed to hold her ground, but once Zuko found confidence, he sent a kick, this time with the fire of his anger, in her direction. Its force sent her out the back of the Cornucopia. The blast sent Suki midair, crashing next to Sokka’s growing pile of weapons. Zuko couldn’t launch another attack before she stood up, his bleeding side stung with the kick. He needed to tone down his fighting.

With Zuko now doubled over trying to scrunch his shirt into a bandage, Suki rose and grasped her sword. Now was her chance. Sokka also took this moment as his chance, dropping down from the top of the Cornucopia again, this time landing in a squat with his boomerang ready. He looked to Suki, trying to piece together what happened below him. She didn’t give him any attention. This was her fight. She ran forward, though the flames still burning around them. Planting her feet across from Zuko as she struggled to stand up straight, she swung the sword at his wounded side, only for Zuko to swing his arm up. Hoping his bone could take the swing better than his gash could, he managed to knock Suki’s swing off her aim. She stood strong, anticipating him to send another fire her way, and ducked to roll over under his arm and stand back up behind him, missing his strike.

Suki grabbed his ponytail, pulling him upwards so he couldn’t crouch to put pressure on his side wound. She only had a few more minutes before the bleeding would stop—she couldn’t have thrown a knife that deep. Before she could restrict him with her sword, Zuko turned to face her, punching her away with fire. As she fell down, Sokka stepped up to swing his boomerang at Zuko’s weak spots. Motivated by the rage building up in Zuko since his father first announced his name at the Reaping, Zuko forgot about how his last kick made his wound sting, and he swung his other leg in Sokka’s direction, creating an arc of fire that whipped across his face.

Zuko couldn’t let a couple of non-benders get him tonight. Even if he survived, he had to look strong. His father wanted him to fail in the Arena. He threw Zuko into the Arena so he could die in front of the world, justifying his father’s hatred toward him and his crowning of Azula. He could figure out what to do about his injuries later. Zuko needed to come out of this fight on top. Removing his hands from his side, he threw fire out wide, drawing the streams in close to the Cornucopia to surround Suki as she tried to launch another attack. His fire outpaced her run, though. The structure caught fire, creating a death trap for if Suki lost her balance. He moved closer, pushing her back as he jabbed more flames in her direction until she was cornered. This was his redemption.

“Suki!” Sokka started running, ignoring the flaming landscape threatening his life, as he tried to grab hers. Zuko pushed harder, though. This was different from the rage the tributes saw him unleash on Jet in training. The rage of the cursed son unleashed on Suki, entrapping her in the Cornucopia as it incinerated into the night sky.

“Unless you’re wanting to join her,” Zuko finally set his fists down, turning to Sokka, “I suggest you leave while you still have the chance.”

He stood there. Weighing his options—futilely trying to rescue his ally and risking his own life or running like a coward. He couldn’t just leave Suki to die. As the burn across his face grew hotter as the Cornucopia flames strengthened, he realized he waited too long to make a real decision. The canon would go off any moment now for Suki. He could still save Katara if he made it away from Zuko’s wrath with just the burn scar across his face. Saving Suki meant abandoning his sister.

Sokka could kill and he could run away from a fight. He never wanted to learn these truths about himself. But he did. At this point, his loyalty to his sister was the only thing grounding him to the boy he was this morning. So he ran. He grabbed the bag of weapons he dropped from the top of the Cornucopia and didn’t look back. He let Zuko remain in the flames he waged against the former non-bender alliance, and he ran toward the mountains, hoping he would find his sister.


	15. 15

**15**

It was Mai’s watch shift. Ty Lee just went to sleep, and Mai was watching for tributes until sunrise. Swinging a dagger around her finger, she listened more than she watched. Ever since Zuko left, the night was quiet. Azula interrogated Ty Lee on her Sokka strategy until she had sufficient information, which just gave way to another hour of figuring out how they would get him away from Suki, convince him to join, and then keep him reigned in under their influence. It didn’t require much work from Mai—she was in charge of convincing Suki she would do better without Sokka as an ally. As the one that knew his ally, Mai was supposed to get into her head. Which, when she thought about it, made sense. That was why she even talked to Suki in the first place. But it still felt like she was betraying what could’ve been a friendship.

She looked to Azula’s map in the dirt. She couldn’t make most of it out in the dark, but she added Haru and Toph to the mountains. The projections of fallen tributes helped, but Mai liked keeping a running tally of who was left. With all of the Fire Nation, most of the Earth Kingdom, and the Southern Water Tribe left, there was still a long game until Mai had to step aside for Azula. She wondered if she should’ve walked away with him. If she was going to die either way, maybe she should’ve followed him. Despite all his faults, he cared for her. She couldn’t say that much about Azula with confidence.

As she spun her dagger, waiting for Toph or Haru to come from the mountains, Mai heard a crackling in the distance. It didn’t sound like an earth bender. She ran through her list of tributes:

Azula—on her right

Ty Lee—on her left

Toph—ran to the west side of the mountain

Haru—closer to the peak on the same side as her and the other girls

Katara—followed Toph’s lead

Suki—went far into the desert

Sokka—with Suki

Zuko—went in the direction of the Cornucopia, the desert

Mai turned. The cracks weren’t coming from anyone in the mountains. She jumped to her feet and turned around, shock overwhelmed her as she watched a bonfire come from the center of the Arena. Where Zuko was. He was in the flames. No, he created the flames. Only him and Azula could do that, and Azula was asleep on Mai’s right. Why would Zuko light the Cornucopia on fire? Haru didn’t come down the mountain. They would’ve heard him. Toph and Katara, could they have made it to the Cornucopia? Yes, but they had no reason to. Sokka, Suki, and Jet went into the desert; Sokka killed Jet. One of the survivors could have moved to the Cornucopia. Suki to escape him, or Sokka because she raised her defenses?

The flames kept growing. But Zuko was a trained fire bender. Ranked high at the academy, royalty, privately trained, Zuko could handle himself, even if Azula belittled him whenever she had the chance. He could take Sokka. The kid had no experience besides hunting in the South Pole. He couldn’t kill the prince of the Fire Nation with a boomerang. But he killed Jet somehow. But Jet wasn’t a trained fire bender. Suki? On scores alone, Suki and Zuko were equal matches; Mai reached for a throwing knife. But the Arena wasn’t scores. But Suki had a quiet anger to her, once that could rival Zuko’s outward rage. They could fight similarly. But maybe it was Sokka at the Cornucopia, running from Suki, and Zuko could take him. She listened for the canon.

She couldn’t wake Ty Lee and Azula up. Not yet. If the flames got bigger, yes. If it looked like a real showdown, sure. But Zuko in danger? Azula didn’t wake up for good news. So Mai kept watch. She couldn’t abandon her friends, she just had to stand with the knowledge that had she followed Zuko, he might be safer.

Whips of fire swung across the sky. She heard a guy’s yelp as one fell. Small bursts of fire continued to flame the bonfire, letting Mai know Zuko was still fighting. Before the fire stabilized, she watched it grow large enough to confirm that Zuko was the one waging the battle. She didn’t know if he won, but she was confident he held his own. After how she let him leave, maybe that was all she deserved to know. Mai tried to find reassurance in the fact that she thought Sokka yelled in response to a fire whip. She never heard a canon, meaning no matter what else happened, Zuko was alive. And that was all she could hope for at this moment.

Sitting back down, Mai let out a sigh in an attempt to convince herself that nothing happened. She didn’t know how she was going to tell her alliance in the morning. She wouldn’t say much—no one expected a detailed report from her. She just felt so powerless. 

Mai couldn’t reflect in solitude for much longer, though. Once she managed to find some comfort again, the footsteps started. Coming from the direction of the Cornucopia, she drew her mental list of Zuko, Suki, and Sokka. Mai crossed Zuko off, he was too prideful to retreat to Azula like this. If she knew anything, Mai was confident that Zuko would work alone for the next few days. Rejected by his sister, and unable to kill whoever tested him, he needed to find himself before he could work with anyone.

So Sokka or Suki. The fire whips elicited a guy’s voice. Mai stopped twirling her dagger, and gripped it in anticipation of Sokka. If he was the killer they thought he was, Mai needed to wake up her alliance, “Azula,” she nudged the princess with her free hand then turned to Ty Lee, “We have a visitor coming.”

“It’s not even dawn yet,” Yawning, Ty Lee struggled to open her eyes in the darkness, “Who would even be moving around right now?”

Mai mustered some of a character, adding a smirk to her voice, “I think it’s your boyfriend. You might want to fix your braid before he gets close.” She stood up with Azula. While Ty Lee grudgingly woke up, Mai turned to Azula to brief her on the Cornucopia flames. She told her what she knew—someone, Zuko, set the Cornucopia on fire and attacked whoever else was there. It sounded like a boy, and Sokka was the only one near that sector of the Arena. No canons had gone off.

Azula mulled over the information, deciding whether or not Ty Lee’s plan still worked. Odds are, Sokka had a bone to pick with Zuko, especially if her brother wounded him. If he looked capable of fighting despite whatever battle scars he picked up, Azula was ready to let Ty Lee toy with his heart. “He sounds close, Ty Lee, are you ready?”

She nodded, fixing her braid as Mai had so sarcastically suggested. She tried to block out her nerves by focusing on their time at the fountain together instead. Ty Lee knew she was able to fluster him, but she just couldn’t puncture his walls that day. He didn’t respond well to her as a shoulder for when he was feeling insecure, so she needed to revamp her approach. As if on a tight rope, she gingerly walked into the darkness, listening to his footsteps to guide where she went. Ty Lee walked to meet beside Sokka, to slide next to him where he couldn’t just stab her if she blocked his path. “So what brings you to my side of the Arena?”

His cheeks flushed before he even realized what was going on. Briefly, he was able to trick himself that Suki slid up to him. But he knew Suki was an ally, and she didn’t admire him like he did her. And she was dead. Ty Lee was trying to speak to him. His momentary excitement returned to his sorrow. He wasn’t in the mood for whatever Ty Lee wanted from him. “I’m just passing through. I promise I’m not looking for any trouble.” She always seemed to catch him at his lowest moment.

“I’m not looking for trouble either,” She swung her leg around, now starting to block his path, “I thought you were going to become a desert boy. What brings about the change?” Her voice low, Ty Lee tried to keep their conversation private from Azula and Mai even though they only stood a few feet away. She needed to earn his trust, even if only by a little bit, before they joined her.

“I figured out the desert wasn’t for me.”

“Does that have anything to do with the bonfire I saw earlier?” Ty Lee raised her hand to his cheek with caution, even in the dark she could tell Zuko burned him. And it wasn’t the kind of burn that went away, “You look like you had a run-in with Prince Zuko. Do you want to talk about it?”

Sokka turned his face away from her, avoiding her touch and eyes. He couldn’t imagine what she wanted from him, but he wasn’t about to let her trick him to death. “No. Like I said, I’m really just passing through here. I’m not trying to bring a hassle to your camp or anything.”

“Sokka,” Ty Lee sighed, following his face until she could land on eye contact with him, “You’re not bothering me by strolling through here. In fact, I think we probably share some common ground. Are you sure you don’t want to talk about your visit with Zuko?”

“What are you trying to get at?”

Her face fell just a bit. He was so harsh—like yes, she knew why, but it hurt. Maybe he just warmed slowly to people, “I’m going to take a jab and guess that you have a bone to pick with Zuko. That maybe you want him out of the Arena. Personally, I would like to see him gone soon, too.”

Her hand floated a little too close to his burn, so Sokka reached up to grab and lower it to her side. Ty Lee took his touch as an opportunity to let her fingers linger on his, hoping to appeal to him beyond the game. He tried not to focus on her soft fingers as they took their time leaving his, Azula and Mai must be around. Ty Lee by herself didn’t have much reason to want Zuko dead. She was supposed to serve the fire benders, so this was Azula’s goal. “You’re not suggesting we work together.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Azula wanted to win. After his sister scored a nine, Katara stood in Azula’s way of becoming the next Fire Lord, just like Zuko stood in the way. “Maybe because I scored a two? I don’t think Fire Nation royalty wants to work with a peasant from the Southern Water Tribe.” If she really was trying to rope him into the volunteers’ alliance, then he could keep them away from Katara. She must be why they wanted him anyway, so why not take advantage of their trust in him to protect his sister? It was a precarious strategy, but it’s not like his earlier, more cautious, strategies worked out well.

“I think you outsmarted the gamemakers in your private,” She smirked, not leaving his direct line of sight, “That’s why you looked so sad the first day we talked, right? I don’t think you really deserved that two, you seem too bright for such an embarrassing score. Why don’t you walk with me to my campsite?” Mai and Azula took that as the signal to go back to their blankets, and for Azula to ready a fire, “I think you could be a strong ally, and I’m sure the other girls think so too. Let’s talk more about this with them.”

He complied. As he walked just behind Ty Lee, he prayed his dad wasn’t watching or that the cameras weren’t on him. If Sokka was successful and could protect Katara from within their enemies’ alliance, this may be justified. However, right now he knew he was straying farther away from the men of the South Pole. Maybe he could still get out of this. He hadn’t agreed to anything. Sokka looked around, measuring how far away Azula sat, how hot her fire felt, and if he could make a run for the west. She was too close. If he ran now, she could just shoot him up, and Sokka wouldn’t have a chance at redemption. So he resigned himself to sit down across from Azula. Ty Lee kept close to him. Her knee bumped up to his as they sat crisscross, making Sokka wonder, just for a second, if she was trying to flirt with him. Her touch wasn’t romantic, though. The closer she sat, the harder it would be for Sokka to walk from this conversation.

He refused to speak first. He didn’t know what they knew about him, and Sokka wasn’t about to offer extra information. Azula scared him. He hated watching her face through the campfire that separated them, and he hated knowing that she was in control of his game right now. This was all so avoidable, but now he couldn’t escape.

“How’s my brother doing? Did you two get to know each other earlier tonight?” She crossed her feet as her legs stretched out before her. She watched him struggle with the question—he was trying to figure out where Azula and Zuko stood with each other before he answered, what he could say without making an enemy of her.

The burn spoke with more clarity than he could. Meaning he couldn’t lie and say he didn’t meet Zuko in the Arena. “Suki and I were trying to get more supplies tonight. Zuko was camping in the Cornucopia,” he took a breath, unsure how much he should say. Before he could revise his story, Sokka caught a glance from Ty Lee. She looked softer than Azula—in this light she looked like she _cared_ , and not just like she was seeking information from him, “I was gathering supplies, while Suki tried to kill Zuko, and before I really had a chance to step in, he started bending.”

The girls stayed silent. This story wasn’t sufficient for them. It was like they could’ve guessed this much, and they were waiting for Sokka to say what happened, to confirm the tragedy he witnessed so that it existed outside his own mind. He felt Ty Lee’s leg sitting right next to his. He shouldn’t be here, this was wrong. But he was here, “Suki had him for a bit, I didn’t want to step in on her fight. But all of a sudden Zuko seemed to find a new energy, his flames got more powerful, he stopped caring about his injuries, and he surrounded her in fire.” Sokka’s voice broke as he remembered the incident. He wasn’t going to cry, but he had to focus on masking the despair in his voice, “I watched him kill Suki. He worked with such rage, and I don’t think he saw her as a person, just a victim. He was so disturbing.”

Azula shot Mai a glance, _did you hear a canon?_ Mai shook her head. Sokka didn’t see Suki die, he watched Zuko attack her with the intent to kill. He wasn’t in the most stable headspace, letting himself fill in the gaps to what he saw. Mai figured he was too rattled from the battle to realize a canon never went off. Whatever he saw probably happened, and it was most likely brutal, but it wasn’t fatal. Azula sent Ty Lee a nod, _let’s keep him close to us._ Her banished brother “killed” Sokka’s ally, and he was still irrational from it. If they were going to push Sokka under their wing, now was the time.

“I’m so sorry that you had to watch that, Sokka,” Ty Lee tried to comfort him, hoping to push his guard down, “You know, I’m here for you if you need to talk about it or if you just need a friend.” Brushing her hand along his arm, she worried this was becoming too much. She wasn’t this much of a flirt, but she needed Sokka to see their alliance in a better light. Besides, if she could get his trust tonight, she could maintain control. Were Azula to just bully Sokka into their alliance, he would leave as soon as he realized a canon never went off for Suki.

He wanted to say he was fine just to stop this conversation. But he couldn’t lie well enough to say so. He let Ty Lee hold him, but he didn’t reciprocate any touch. Like a shock blanket, Ty Lee gave him some semblance of security for the moment. If he thought about her for too long, he knew he couldn’t trust her, but when he tried to balance the scenes of death from the night, his concerns about Ty Lee took a backseat. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

“You know you can stay here for the night,” Sokka raised an eyebrow, that triggered his suspicions. He may be rattled, but he could still identify a death trap when he heard one. Ty Lee tried to back track her words as Sokka started pulling away from her touch until Azula took control of the conversation.

“She means you can stay with us for the game. We have a common enemy, and I can speak for the rest of us when I say we want to work with you. This could easily be the final four.”

“The gamemakers don’t like me. What’s in it for y’all for me to join?” He knew the answer. He wanted to know Azula’s cover story.

“The gamemakers like whoever the Fire Nation volunteers like, I’m not worried about your two,” She grinned as she emphasized his score, signaling to Sokka that though he may be welcome in the alliance, he wasn’t an equal. He could be their strategist, but he was no general among them, “We know you killed Jet. Us and Zuko are the only killers so far, and I like keeping us on the same side if that’s the case.” Meaning she liked having someone lower than her for close combat if a battle was beneath Azula’s skillset. She liked the idea of someone manning her petty fights. “You actually talked to the tributes during training. We intimidated them too much to have a real conversation and get to know them.”

Ty Lee tried to keep him from scooting away, “We need you just about as you need us.”

He didn’t need them. He knew they wanted to use him to get closer to his sister. It’s not like he knew Toph or Haru any better than they did. Accepting their offer meant he would be at the bottom of the volunteers’ alliance, which was demeaning, but it let him keep track of them. He could try to steer them away from Katara. He couldn’t fail them like he failed Suki. “I’m in.” Besides, if he declined Azula’s offer, he wouldn’t stand a chance on his own.

Sokka decided to finish out Mai’s watch shift with her. He may be in, but he wasn’t comfortable enough to fall asleep next to the other volunteers. Deciding that he just wouldn’t sleep this night, he assumed his watch post next to Mai. He gripped his boomerang until his knuckles went white as he watched her spin the same knives that pinned Suki to the Cornucopia. Absent-minded, she seemed to not care for the dead. He kept replaying his last conversation with Suki when he asked about her friendship with Mai. She was cold—Sokka couldn’t comprehend how the two girls started conversations together.

Mai only spoke to the tributes when she wanted to learn something from them. She still didn’t know why Ty Lee insisted on Sokka’s joining. She understood he knew Katara and claimed he could strategize, but she still struggled to see how he was worth the effort it took to keep him grounded under their leadership. “So,” she turned her head to look at him, he seemed terrified, “How’d you do it?

“How did I do what?”

“Jet.”

His nails started digging into his flesh as he couldn’t hold his boomerang any tighter, he made the wrong decision, “I bashed his head in with a war club.”

“Was she in on it?”

“I let her know before I did it. But the planning and execution was all me.” He didn’t want to have this conversation. How did he manage to screw up so badly that this became his only option? “How did you end up here?”

“I’m just serving my country,” she sighed, confident that Suki had already filled him in on Mai’s character, “If this is my role in the war, I guess it’s not too bad.”

“What do you mean?”

“This won’t last as long as soldiers go on tour for. I get to fight with the people I grew up with. You know why it’s the better deal, you obviously volunteered for this instead of going to war.”

Feeling resigned, he nodded at her conclusion. “Why weren’t you in the Cornucopia with Zuko? You and him looked closer than you and Azula during training.”

“You’re from the Southern Water Tribe, you don’t know Fire Nation politics. Not all of us have the luxury of playing with our personal moral compass,” She paused, looking him up and down and coming to the realization that he wasn’t going to calm down anytime soon unless someone in the alliance treated him like an equal, “Or lack thereof, in your case, I guess.”

Her snide comment shook him, but it also brought him back to his senses—Mai was right. Sokka needed someone to treat him like things were normal. Ty Lee was too extravagant and Azula was too demeaning. Mai took him back to reality, “I’ve been doing what I have to survive. Maybe if you weren’t family friends with the gamemakers, you would play harsh too.”

“Fair point,” If he would stay like this when the rest of the alliance woke up, maybe Sokka could fit in with the group—as much as a two manipulated into joining could fit in. He held his own right now. Mai wondered how Azula would take to that.


	16. 16

**16**

She kept walking all night. After her brother kicked the water out of her and Toph’s battling hands, she managed to scavenge the canteen from the ground and go. In search of safe ground, her and the earth bender ended up going the same direction, but neither tried to kill the other. They both kept their distance. Both girls likely sought to play the long-game and not terrorize their own conscious on day one. Once Katara couldn’t hear Toph’s movements anymore she slowed her pace.

She wanted to run back to the Cornucopia or wherever Sokka was. The last time they spoke was after he returned to the Water Tribe suite from his private. He went straight to his room, insistent on not talking, not strategizing for today, not saying goodbye. They could’ve easily stayed together had she not run off once she grabbed the canteen. After watching Azula kill so many tributes without a second thought and Mai pin Suki to the Cornucopia, making her into an easy target, Katara’s fight or flight kicked into play. In the desert, flight won. It made sense. Without water or weapons, she would’ve struggled to make it out alive had she lingered. At least she had the water now.

After what felt like hours of walking up the slope, Katara entered into a forest of Aspen trees. Red dust from the rocks left the air, and the breeze instead made a sound. The desert was quiet, almost to a maddening extent. It gave her thoughts to much space to bounce over each other and replay her last moment with Sokka until she started questioning if he truly wanted to get rid of her. The desert convinced her Sokka wanted to work alone.

But the forest sang. With each breath, the leaves rustled. The air danced in between the narrow trunks, cooling the air and bringing the smallest bit of peace to Katara. She had never seen plants this colorful and alive before. Maybe she was dreaming or maybe she was being lured into a trap within the Arena. But for the first time since her Reaping, she slowed down and felt the world around her.

Katara decided she would get some sleep that night.

She didn’t move when she first woke up. A yellow canopy letting in the occasional ray of sunlight shrouded her vision. Momentarily, she thought she died. It was possible with her present circumstances. Taking in a breath, she realized just how crisp this region was compared to the desert. She wasn’t dead. She watched the insects crawl around her body as she stayed in the grass. Life gave evidence of life.

She brought her feet in close to her and sat up, hugging her knees, Katara tried to take stock of the environment during the daylight. Despite everything Sokka had told her about how winning over Fire Nation citizens would protect her at least from the gamemakers for a bit, she didn’t put her faith in his predictions. She knew just how much of The Hunger Games he watched before volunteering. He may have known a substantial amount about the patterns and twists each game seemed to follow, but he didn’t know everything. She couldn’t take her applause or score for granted.

As she examined her surroundings, she noticed a layer of dew covering the blades of grass. Tiny drops of water. Just a few hours ago, she would’ve sworn she would be dependent on the canteen for the rest of her life. Katara waved her hand over the grass, making a slow and controlled effort to guide the water from the land. As the droplets raised, she lifted her left hand, using the right to hold the droplets in the air while the other pushed them into a floating body of water—she did it. As she led the water into her canteen, she looked for cameras. The gamemakers hid space for a water bender in the Arena, most likely hoping she wouldn’t find it. She did it.

With just a few hours of sleep, Zuko woke up in what felt like another world. He couldn’t bring himself to watch Suki die. After warning the volunteer to run while he could, Zuko watched the Cornucopia erupt into flames with Suki stuck in the pyre. Knowing the pain of a burn, Zuko figured that the fire would kill her—that she would suffocate or panic or overheat—he thought he set everything up for the girl to die. To expedite the process and continue playing a direct role in the process by kindling the flames felt too wrong for him. He could set up a death, but he wasn’t ready to execute someone yet. So he told Sokka to run. And after Sokka disappeared into the mountains, Zuko ran to the west. He never heard the canon, which kept him up almost all night. He kept moving, waiting to hear a confirmation that the Cornucopia killed Suki. He never got it, though. How? It didn’t make sense.

Maybe this was why his father made him a tribute.

A fire lord couldn’t set up the perfect situation to finish their enemy and then leave, giving the victim every chance to live for another fight.

What was he even trying for now? Even if he managed to win, he disqualified himself from serving as the Fire Lord. The people would think him a coward.

Before the non-benders changed his night, Zuko managed to create a bag of fruit from the Cornucopia leftovers. When he arrived after leaving his sister, he found the hook swords—the dual pair Jet mentioned in his interview. Wanting a weapon, he kept them tied to his waist as he journeyed west. As he gathered his bag and secured the swords before moving deeper into the forest before him, Zuko realized he probably looked more like the rebel than he did himself.

He took his hair down before falling asleep. Quickly, Zuko tied his ponytail, hoping that something more interesting was happening in the Arena. After his father spared him in their Agni Kai, he shaved all but the hair for his ponytail—a visual testament to his shame. He looked like a weirdly-shaved Jet now with his hair down, and Zuko couldn’t bear to be associated with the insurgent boy. He needed to keep at least some dignity to him.

As Zuko entered the Aspen trees, he tried to sort through the first day’s events. All of the Fire Nation and Southern Water Tribe were in the Game, along with two earth benders and a burnt Kyoshi Warrior. Outside of his sister and her friends, none of the remaining tributes seemed to forge any alliances with each other during training. Sure, some may be forming now, but he doubted it. People would be spread out today. Meaning he probably wouldn’t be alone for too long.

He kept the hook swords in his hands as he walked, bracing himself for a fight whenever he found whoever thought they could find refuge among the trees. This time he would hear a canon.


	17. 17

**17**

Hands resting on her hips, Azula stood in impatient waiting as her alliance groggily tried to get ready for the new day. With Sokka’s arrival, none of them were able to get sufficient sleep. The confidence of their spot in the finals limited their movements too, given that no one thought their lives were at risk if they slept in for another five minutes. But with Azula ready to start moving, their lives were at risk if they didn’t conform to her pace. Her glare motivated the group to stand up faster. She was a woman on a mission, and Azula didn’t tolerate anyone who tried to change her plans.

“We’re scouting today,” this wouldn’t be their permanent ground. Azula wanted to be near the tip of the mountain. While she would’ve liked to be in the desert, only the earth benders would set up camp there—if they got comfortable enough without any way to hide. The higher they set up camp, the more they could see and the better they could advance on their enemies, “I want to get a sense for where everyone is while we start making our way up the mountain. Let’s move.”

Sokka fumbled with his bag of weapons as the group started their hike. He saw the merits to Azula’s plan, it would only strengthen their strategy and safety. But he wasn’t ready to find out where all the tributes were hiding. Even from a distance, he wasn’t sure he could bear to see Zuko or his sister today. As he watched Ty Lee and Mai flock behind Azula, signaling him to do the same, he realized just how shameful his new situation was. At this point he stopped wondering how he fell into this reality, he was too busy trying to figure out how to leave.

“Scouting means we’re not walking around with loud purses,” She kept her focus forward, moving on and hoping Sokka took the criticism, they needed to start moving. He stayed silent and fell into step with the group. This was Azula’s alliance, and they would keep him around until they got what they needed from him. Katara was the only reason he was alive after running into the other volunteers. He needed to make a case independent of Katara for Azula not to kill him. He needed to keep Ty Lee smitten with him—assuming her advances were even genuine—and make a real ally in this group.

“Are we just hiking all day?” Mai rolled her eyes and stepped forward to walk with Azula, leaving her friend to flirt with the boy, “Surely there’s something more interesting to do in the Arena.”

“We’re getting our high ground,” she entertained the conversation, even though Mai should’ve known not to question Azula’s planning, “Ideally, we’ll let the tributes sit in their fear today. I think it will be a more exciting fight if we leave them to their devices and anxieties for a day or so before we start pursuing victims.”

Mai sighed.

“So you three all knew each other before the Reaping?” Sokka turned to Ty Lee, who seemed to walk with an eagerness opposite to Mai’s gloom. Beyond the whole culture of volunteering and imperialism and brutality, he didn’t understand how the anyone here was friends with each other.

“Yeah!” She walked with a bounce in her step, as if she didn’t connect today’s hike to a longer strategy of murdering innocent teenagers, “We all grew up together. Mai’s parents are high in the government, and all of us attend the Royal Academy. We’ve always been close. Azula and I even thought Zuko was going to ask Mai out if he was ever brave enough.”

So that’s why Joo Dee asked Zuko if the two of them fed turtle ducks together. “Is it alright if I ask why he was at the Cornucopia last night? If he and Mai were really that close growing up, what made him leave?”

Ty Lee smiled, almost condescendingly, just as Mai told Sokka the night before—he didn’t know Fire Nation politics. She rested her hand on his shoulder, signaling him to walk a little slower so Mai and Azula could gain some distance on the two of them, “I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that, you know your two and his six are different, right? Our alliance needs to project strength since we’re the hope of the Fire Nation, or at least the three of us are.”

“You’re telling me I’m not the hope of the Fire Nation?” he grinned, trying to change the topic. Ty Lee was right; he really didn’t need someone to explain to him why three of the volunteers worked independent from Prince Zuko. He wanted details, but with Mai so close to them, maybe it was best that he didn’t pry, “I could’ve sworn that my boomerang and I were just days away from being appointed to command the Navy.”

His sarcasm elicited a giggle from Ty Lee, “You’re smart,” she let her hand drift into the middle space between them and stretched her fingers, making her hand available if he wanted something to hold as they hiked. She watched his eyes as he spoke, there was a unique coldness to them, like he was playing defense against the world. “We’re lucky you found us last night.” Ty Lee needed to make sure Sokka knew his value in the group—even if they never mentioned the water bender—to ensure he didn’t try to use them. If she could wrap him around her finger, they’d be set. He was too smart for his own good, but if she could get into his brain, she could help both of them find a new peace in the Arena.

Oblivious to her hand, he kept trekking forward, reminding himself that he needed to maintain some upper-hand within the alliance. Ty Lee was clearly the most willing to accept him. At this point, he needed to keep her trust and make sure that she was more loyal to him than Mai was Zuko. “You think so?” He downplayed his role in the Water Tribe interview strategy, “You guys all go to some Royal Academy. My grandmother taught me how to read in an igloo. I’m still surprised y’all kept me around this long.”

“Of course I think so! You sounded like _such_ a military strategist during your interview. I’m excited to hear what all you have planned once we figure out where the tributes went.”

As she turned to face him, he decided to be bold. Ty Lee wasn’t holding anything and he needed to look like a leader, even if Azula would never acknowledge him as one. He could at least make himself a leader in this flirty alliance thing he and Ty Lee were getting themselves into. Taking her hand to hold, Sokka smiled down at her, “That means a lot to hear you say. I think there’s good things in store for us.”

As the hours passed, she ran out of dew to collect for the canteen. Katara tried to get creative, she knew the trunks stored water all around her, she just couldn’t figure out how to get to it. After near exhausting herself trying to kick a trunk in half, she realized she couldn’t snap a tree to get water. Not without a weapon, anyway. Looking upward, Katara realized the leaves must also have water in them. Even though they could only store a small amount, maybe she could at least use them to throw an opponent of their rhythm.

Assuming a fighting stance, she raised her arms upward and focused on one tree’s canopy. The leaves stopped rustling. At first, Katara thought her efforts were in vain. As she stood in silent concentration, she noticed the change in the sound surrounding her, and realized that she stopped these leaves from moving with the wind. Knowing she guided the canopy, Katara drew her hands closer to her core, and the leaves and stems followed, moving downward. She pulled her hands backward, meeting a leaf pile within an instant. She could work with this.

The girl lifted the pile back up and formed the another ball, letting the leaves float in midair with each other before she separated them. As she moved her right hand outward, the leaves acted accordingly and spread out. Within seconds, she had a circular shield, albeit a thin shield. She let them back down into their pile. Katara could water bend out here, now she just needed to figure out how to fight with the resources the gamemakers dealt. She went back to her basics. Flicking her wrist back and forth with a new gentleness, she created a small wave of the leaves. They acted just like water without the force she needed if she got into a fight.

As Katara retaught herself how to fight, Zuko realized he had company in the Aspen forest. Even though the wind didn’t change, the rustling lost its rhythm. Looking up, things looked the same. However, if he stopped to listen to his surroundings, it became clear that someone manipulated their environment. He walked faster with this knowledge and brandished his hook swords.

He made his way further into the forest. Before he saw Katara, he saw her leaf wave. He could defeat some leaves. This was his time to become the heir he was supposed to be. Zuko inhaled, warming himself before producing any real fire to launch. Examining the situation, he noticed Katara was dropping entire canopies from trees to thicken her wave. This was a new skill, and she was still figuring out how much she could control and what would work in a fight. He stayed back for a few minutes, trying to figure out her pattern in choosing a tree to take the leaves from.

Once he felt confident in which tree she was about to take from, Zuko slid his hook swords back onto his belt and positioned himself to act. Katara moved slowly, wiggling the leaves before she dragged them from the branches. Right before she pulled the leaves off, Zuko shot a fireball at the branches, letting the flames spread to the leaves as they fell into her pile. He kept his distance as the fire spread and watched her jump back as the flames engulfed her hard work. He was about to walk out and challenge her, until he watched her pull a stream of water from the canteen and douse the fire.

Katara scanned her surroundings for who set the fire—looking for one of the royal siblings, she fixed her eyes on Zuko quickly. Once they made eye contact, he reached for the hook swords, ready to enhance his bending with the weapons. Thinking faster, Katara formed a water whip from her canteen and lunged toward Zuko with an aim for his hands. Striking the swords out of his grip, she ran closer and threaded the water around his wrists as he reached for the lost weapons. Before he could break the whip, she froze the water to restrict his arm movements.

Zuko kicked his right leg up to throw a stream of fire in her direction as he planted his foot down. While Zuko drew his breath to melt the ice-cuffs, Katara drew more water to launch directly into the flame—boiling her water midair. She let him free himself from the ice and realize for himself the boiling water hanging above his head. Zuko felt the heat. She positioned the water too close to his scar, making his skin burn just from its proximity. The two tributes looked to each other, questioning how far the other was willing to go in this fight.

_Victory does not come from making enemies. You must keep the others on your side until you can let Azula die._

As his eye strained under the heat of Katara’s water, Zuko thought of his father’s rage, his own father’s ability to wound his son and cause a lifetime of shame and pain. But then he thought of his uncle, and Iroh’s willingness to forgive and seek peace. Uncle Iroh told Zuko not to make enemies in the Arena. Pushing Katara to her limit wouldn’t help either of them. Azula was both of their biggest enemy, and her absence in the Aspen forest only managed to weaken them. Whoever walked out from this fight alive would be fatigued.

Without breaking eye contact, he started to siphon the heat out of her water slowly. “Katara,” he remained still, trying to convince her he was genuine, “I think we probably share some common ground. We shouldn’t be trying to kill each other.”

“I’m sorry? How gullible do you think I am?” She kept the canteen open on her hip, listening, but ready to strike once he gave her reason.

“I’m not trying to pull anything,” He let out a sigh, struggling to find the words for his ideas. He wasn’t going to propose an alliance—the Fire Nation would banish him for surrendering to a water bender like that. A truce? That also sounded weak. “I don’t want us to be enemies. I’m here only to fight Azula,” Katara’s face warped with anger, “She’s your biggest competition too. The citizens love you, and she can’t let anyone who’ll undermine her support live that much longer. Let’s save this fight.”

She let his words linger in the air between them. He wasn’t wrong. Together, the two of them had a better chance at stopping Azula than she did by herself. But she didn’t want to make an ally out of Zuko. He was the prince, but he was awkward and rejected, and beyond volatile anytime someone challenged him to a fight. She couldn’t count on him for anything. Katara started streaming the water back into her canteen as she carved her words with a dagger, “We can put this fight on hold. But the second I kill Azula, or the first time you step out of line, you’ll meet your end. This isn’t over, Prince.”


	18. 18

**18**

“Why aren’t you with the boy from your tribe?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You two seemed close during training. I thought y’all were an alliance, or something.”

“I thought you and Mai were dating, but it looks like both of us are wrong.”

“I guess so.”

Darkness fell in the Arena. The new partners remained alone in the Aspen forest for the remainder of the day. Not wanting to expose themselves to bloodthirsty tributes, Katara and Zuko split some of the fruit he gathered the night before for dinner. The forest, once a haven for the water bender, grew increasingly uncomfortable. Both of them wanted to work alone—there would only be one survivor—and kept the peace purely out of self-interest.

“Do you want me to light a campfire for the night?”

“I don’t know,” Katara refused to look in Zuko’s direction anytime he spoke. Just in case she didn’t make herself clear enough earlier, she wanted to establish that she didn’t trust him. As soon as his survival didn’t assist hers, he was done, “Are you trying to undermine our agreement?”

“You can literally douse the fire. I was just offering to keep us warm for the night. I thought you would appreciate having some light for if anyone approached us.”

“Why should I believe you?”

Working with Katara was almost as infuriating as his sister had been. Neither of them trusted Zuko, and he couldn’t seem to do anything to prove himself in their eyes. Even a gesture of goodwill raised red flags. “Because I want a light for if Azula walks through this forest. You can keep first watch for the night if you’re afraid I’ll pull something.”

“Wouldn’t the fire signal to her that we’re here? You’re more likely to have a campfire than the earth benders.”

“Like I said, you can put out the flames with your water. If you’re too concerned, I don’t have to light anything.”

“I think we should both keep watch tonight.”

“You really want to stay up until the morning?”

“I really don’t want you to try to kill me in my sleep.”

“Why would I do that? You’re my only ally here.”

“We’re not allies.”

“Fine.”

Azula snapped a branch off a nearby tree, lighting a fire right next to the dirt Ty Lee flattened for her mapping. To start, she drew the mountain, on its left side a few vertical lines to mark the Aspen forest, the right a circle to signal the caves hidden in the mountain. Below the mountain, closer to Mai, she drew an X for the burnt Cornucopia and let the rest of the dirt be the desert. “It’s four-on-four right now. We’re at the top,” literally and figuratively, she noted as she drew the Fire Nation insignia at the point, “Haru camped out not too far above the cave, he’s working alone.”

“I don’t think he knows he’s above the cave. He hung his supply bag in the tree, obviously because of the cliff. If he knew what he was above, I’m pretty certain he would burrow into the cave for shelter,” Sokka interrupted Azula, obviously ignorant to her leadership style, as she charted their findings from today. “He won’t find Toph for a little bit,” Leaning forward, he drew her initial in the circle with his finger to mark his position.

This wasn’t a conversation, and the boy wasn’t helping like he thought he was. Azula held her blue flame in her free hand, keeping the fire above Sokka so he couldn’t sit back up, “I’m sorry, Sokka, did I ask for your observations yet?”

His face fell as he raised his eyes to identify the new source of heat above him. This alliance kept getting worse. He shook his head with caution, so as not to speak out of line again.

“That’s what I thought,” clenching her fist, she extinguished the fire, so he could watch her map the Arena in peace, “Though we didn’t see Toph, I can’t imagine she’s anywhere but the cave. She can earth bend more than what we know, so she feels more comfortable there, and since she’s blind the darkness won’t bother her. My guess is she’s waiting for us to come to her, so we’ll need to draw her out of hiding soon.

“We last saw Zuko at the foot of the Aspen forest. He’s walking slowly, probably because he’s scared,” She marked him down, but drew an arrow toward the middle of the forest, landing where she drew Katara’s initial, “He’s probably run into the water bender by now. Neither of them killed the other, so there may be a budding alliance,” Raising the stick from the dirt, she placed it on Sokka’s sternum, pushing him to a taller posture as she let him speak, “What does the girl think of my brother? Why didn’t she kill him when he came across her in the forest?”

Oh, so he was _really_ at the bottom of the alliance, to the point where Azula could treat him like a dog. Time for him to lie, “She’s merciful. I mean you heard her interview, she delivered the babies in our village. Katara never fought anyone until her and Hotah started sparring in training.” Nurturing and loyal, Katara was kind, but she wasn’t gentle like the volunteers might assume if he let them. After what happened to their mom, he really didn’t know why she would let a fire bender survive, let alone a royal one, if she had the chance to kill him, but they didn’t need to know about her rage. “I mean up until a week ago, she could fish and splash with her bending. I’m betting she hasn’t figured out how to be lethal with her water bending since Hotah couldn’t really teacher her that in a week,” He found the confidence to make eye contact with Azula, “Why couldn’t your brother kill her? It’s not like they were surrounded by water.”

“He has quite the flair for the dramatic, he’s probably sick to his stomach after killing that non-bender.” She rolled her eyes at the thought of her brother, “Anyway, they most likely clashed in the forest and at least one will be heading out of the forest. We just don’t know where they’re moving. We’re in between the two groups. The earth benders seem content to remain where they are, so let’s ready ourselves to attack them before Zuko or Katara hike their way up here for a fight.”

“Toph scored a ten,” Sokka spoke as if he forgot Azula’s commandeering presence, “She’s probably smart enough to realize that someone will try to coax her out of the cave. She’s surrounded by her element, and I know she wants to wait it out, but it might give us more of an advantage if we play a long game.”

Azula grinned, happy that he raised this idea, but lighting a flame with her index finger to remind him not to speak out of turn again, “If it was just you and your weapons, that’s a great observation. However, we have the strongest volunteers to execute this mission. _You’re_ going to draw her out of the cave. You two can fight, and I’m sure you have the endurance to exhaust a twelve-year-old in battle while you bring her back to us for the conclusion.”

“You really never trained under a master?”

“I’m the only water bender in the South, there was no one to teach me.”

“How’d you know to bend the leaves like that, then?”

“I just want to survive,” Katara brought her knees closer to her chest to keep warm, “I’ll bend whatever I have to if it means I can go back home.”

“It was really smart; I didn’t expect it.”

“Well, what did you expect from me?”

He shrugged, not that she could see his movements without a fire, “I don’t know. Maybe that you’d be reliant on however much is in the canteen? I thought you were exaggerating how ill-trained you were in your interview, y’know to bait the rest of us.”

“I’m not a liar. Assuming that I am really just reveals how prone you are to lie to get ahead in this game.”

“We both just want to survive,” he shook his head and tried to recollect his thoughts before lashing out to defend his reputation, “Azula is the liar in our family, anyway.”

Ty Lee led Sokka further from the other girls once they divided up their watch schedule for the night. Wanting some privacy, she put some meters in between them so that she could curl up on his side as they lay on the ground. She rested her head on his chest, letting her listen to his heartbeat, measuring how nervous he felt, “You know she wasn’t trying to hurt you during the debrief, right, Sokka?”

He spoke with a calmness ill-fitting to their situation. Still rattled from how Azula threatened him for each idea he expressed until she near commanded him to give her answers, he tried to mask his real feelings, “She dangled those blue flames above my head for expressing ideas other than the ones she wanted to hear from me. What else would she be trying to do?”

“She would’ve hurt you if she was going to,” His heart sped up as Ty Lee tried to explain the group dynamic to him—Azula scared him, “She doesn’t like it when people try to upstage her. You’ll figure out her pacing soon enough.”

Sokka sighed, “I don’t know, Ty Lee, I got the feeling she really doesn’t care what I have to say on a lot of matters.”

“Well, I like what you have to say. I enjoy listening to how your mind works.”

“You’re just trying to make me feel better.”

“Am I succeeding?” She rose from his chest and leaned in to peck a kiss on the top of his nose with a wink as she pulled away. Ty Lee feared he thought too much. Once he recovered from abandoning Suki before she almost died, he would become too much of an analyst. She needed to keep his distracted, always a step or two below his best so he couldn’t control the Game, “You should get some rest before your watch shift. You’ve had some long days.”


	19. 19

**19**

Joo Dee brought a bright energy to the Capitol Square stage in the morning as she continued the fanfare of The Hunger Games. Throughout the world, Fire Nation troops mandated people to watch at least two hours of the Games each day. Communities that refused risked an attack from an already-occupying force. However, as the royal Capitol City housed many of the government and military elite, few people had to be forced to watch the Games. Schools closed and offices took holidays—the people filled the square to watch together on the big screen while Joo Dee brought out military officials for commentary throughout the entire event. People found enjoyment here.

“Good morning, Admiral Zhao,” she turned to the audience, beckoning their cheers as he assumed a seat across from her desk in front of the big screen. As they orchestrated the morning debrief show, the producers split the screen to contrast Zuko and Katara sitting sleepless as they made sure neither pulled anything and Ty Lee and Sokka cuddling as the sun rose. No alliance had ever been so contentious nor flirtatious. “There’s a lot to unpack here, isn’t there? What do you make of the first two days in the Arena?”

He didn’t waste time on a greeting. Admiral Zhao hated when he had to visit Joo Dee’s show to appease the people. Sure, he understood the value of their enthusiasm and the sheer spectacle. However, the audience didn’t appreciate the gamemakers’ craft. They focused so much on how Ty Lee enticed Sokka, and didn’t care for how he would work to bring the couple before Katara so the Water Tribe kids would have to confront their disloyalty to each other. He smiled, engaging Joo Dee to appease the crowd, “I don’t need to tell anyone here that this year is exceptional at least. I mean, the Avatar died within the first ten minutes. The non-bender alliance turned out to be a ruse to kill Jet, and then Zuko managed to convince Sokka he killed his ally, which led him to join Zuko’s former alliance. Some Games don’t see this much action in their entire duration. If this is just two days, I’m excited to see what else the cohort brings to the table.”

“Walk me through Sokka joining the volunteers,” the screen behind her refocused on the volunteers’ alliance. Mai kept watch as the group fought for another hour of sleep before the sun rose high in the sky. Ty Lee and Sokka lied next to each other further away from the other girls, this was what Joo Dee wanted to hear from Zhao, “What does he have to gain from this? What do you think about the budding romance?”

“What you have to understand about Sokka is that he’s a control freak—he volunteered because he wanted authority over the Southern Water Tribe’s measly war contributions, he kicked water from Katara to separate himself from his only ally within minutes, he killed Jet because he wanted to forge ahead with his own, independent reputation. The boy probably thinks that the closer he can be to Azula, the more control he’ll have over his own game.”

“But Ty Lee seems to have quite the grasp on his heart,” she tried to emphasize what the people wanted to hear. They enjoyed romance and murder, no one really cared for a psychoanalysis of the peasant, “How does this factor in to his sense of stability?”

He laughed. Once the gamemakers picked up on Ty Lee’s crush—or strategy—Zhao delegated a team to keep an eye on both her and Sokka to examine how both of them acted in the relationship, watch their heart rate around each other, and figure out who was using who. “It’s interesting you ask that, Joo Dee. Before the tributes enter the Arena, our staff plants a tracker in them. This helps my gamemakers know where each tribute is while monitoring their biological functions so we can know with certainty when one dies,” He turned over his shoulder to yell at the producers in the wings, “Put Sokka and Ty Lee’s vitals up on the screen.”

With both asleep, the numbers didn’t mean much. However, the producers minimized their cuddle-cam and started a montage of major interactions between the two with their vitals at that moment. Each time either of them touched the other—whether brushing past them while hiking, holding hands, or kissing the other’s nose—Ty Lee’s heart rate remained steady. However, Sokka’s heart sped every time; he was nervous, “Just off of the numbers, we can assume that Ty Lee is in control of this relationship. Now, I doubt Sokka knows that. The longer they speak, he’ll start pausing more, which makes me think that he’s trying to scheme. He probably thinks he’s one step ahead of her.” They replayed Sokka reaching for Ty Lee’s hand—a gesture she initiated, even though he thought he did, “Even when he takes the lead on physical touch, he’s clearly the most nervous of the two. It’s a valid reaction. He’s at the bottom of the alliance with the three most dangerous girls in the Fire Nation, he’d be dumb if he wasn’t nervous.

So we can’t speak with certainty on whether he’s afraid or crushing on Ty Lee. But we can compare his vitals to when he speaks with Mai and Princess Azula,” the producers started the video of Mai making fun of him that first night, “He’s much more calm with Mai. What’s really interesting, though,” the large screen replayed Azula lighting a flame above his head and then pushing him away from her map, “Ty Lee makes him more nervous than Azula. The princess of the Fire Nation threatened his life, and he maintained a calmer heart rate than when Ty Lee kissed him on the nose.”

She didn’t know how to respond. Joo Dee asked for Zhao to explain how a romance in the Arena could change the Game, and she got a whole science lesson. If she let Zhao keep speaking, they would start to lose the audience, “So to me it sounds like Sokka doesn’t even know how much influence Ty Lee wields over him,” she summarized for the people, “What do you think the girls will do with this power? Will Sokka even last long with the alliance?”

These were better questions; he could deal with this without hijacking her morning show. As Zhao relaxed in his chairs, the producers shifted back to a wide shot of Mai waking the group up, “Sokka has intel on Katara. We don’t know how close they are, but the Southern Water Tribe is a small community, so the two must know a good deal about each other. Unless Sokka wildly missteps within this alliance, he’ll stick around until Azula eliminates the water bender,” the fact that Sokka could speak his mind while Azula strategized evidenced how influential Katara was to his survival. Had they not known each other, the volunteers would’ve killed the boy a long time ago, “Obviously, they’ll use him to learn her weaknesses and plan her demise. However, I think it will be interesting to see how else they act. All of them keep suggesting that he should do his dirty work. Personally, I’m excited to see how much the girls can make him do before he snaps.”

“We better not be hiking again today,” Mai pushed as the rest of the group sat up. Ty Lee and Sokka stood to walk over to where Mai and Azula sat. As they rejoined the group, Sokka looked more alert than he did the previous day. He knew where his sister was now. He tried to stand up to Azula, even if it was an unsuccessful attempt. His game was still shrouded in failure, but he found hope yesterday. This alliance was no longer his refuge from Suki’s death, but instead it was his platform to take control. Ty Lee yawned and leaned into his side, slipping under his arm, as these thoughts ran through his mind. He never could seem to complete a thought before she moved close to him. It was nice to have someone to keep him company amidst all the stress.

“We’re not,” Azula directed. She wasn’t ready to sic Sokka on the earth benders; she wanted another day to feel out how far much autonomy he thought he had. Besides, the longer they waited, the more fearful the others would grow. “I think we should stay around our camp for the day. Two of us can go look for food, but other than that, I think we should take this day to plan ahead. I’m not in a rush.”

“I saw some berries around yesterday,” Sokka started as if he forgot that Azula wanted him to speak to her only when directed. She started a camp fire before he could finish his sentence, almost warning him, “Did you not see them?”

“No, I’m familiar with the bushes you’re talking about,” She glances to Mai, who also seemed taken aback by his unbridled confidence, “Do you think its chilly up here? I can strengthen the fire, if you’d like. You just seem to have forgotten our conversation from yesterday.”

Oh. Azula’s dominance over him existed beyond just strategy talks. He looked into her blue flames before he decided how he felt about that. Mai and Ty Lee managed to make him feel like an equal when he interacted with them separately, and Ty Lee still curled up on him even when Azula belittled him. Without the entire group against him, he almost felt as if her fires were just threats, “No, I remember it pretty well. I didn’t like it too much.” He was the only one who knew Katara’s strengths and weaknesses. Azula may try to push him down to make him feel subordinate, but he had enough information that he didn’t have to except her treatment. “So the berries. I was _going to_ say that I’ve been the main hunter in my tribe for the past few years. I have a good eye for poisonous fruits, too. I can take over getting us a food supply.”

“Aren’t you the main hunter for your village because all the other men left to die in the war?”

He grew tense, not okay with how she wouldn’t treat him like an ally. What did she find so offensive about him offering to take the lead on providing food? “Listen, Azula, you seem to be forgetting that you invited me into your final four. At some point, you thought I could bring value to this group. Did I do something to convince you otherwise?” He was dancing a little too close to the edge. But what was she going to do? Kill him? Sokka already expected to die at the hands of a fire bender ever since they raided the South Pole. Azula couldn’t take anything from him that he wasn’t already prepared for.

“I brought you in because you interacted with the tributes,” Despite his words, she remained calm, as if she didn’t really care that Sokka thought he could stand his ground, “You have intel, but I don’t need intel to win this game. I think I’ve been fairly kind to you given how you continue to speak to me. Remember, I’m going to leave the Arena. My victory lasts beyond the momentary glory of The Hunger Games, Sokka. One day, I’ll be the Fire Lord with command over the Royal Navy. I invited you into this alliance. You can do whatever you want here because you will die whatever you do. Why not stand up for yourself? Why not look bold for your father as he fights at see? I’m sure you volunteering in place of the kiddos back home will keep them safe from the Fire Lord for the rest of our lives.”

Ty Lee hugged his arm as Azula threatened his home. Azula may try to break Sokka’s spirit, but Ty Lee was there to build it back up exactly the way the volunteers wanted his spirt. He had to remind himself that he was fighting for his sister right now. She had a chance to beat Azula. Their home was as safe as it could be at war if Katara won. If being docile to Azula’s tirade meant he could misconstrue her idea of his sister as a fighter, then he would submit to Azula’s flaming fist in the alliance. “You’re right,” He sunk into himself, collapsing his posture and making himself small, “I was wrong to speak out of line. If you want me to hunt today, let me know, but no worries either way.” He grimaced, trying to demonstrate that he would play along, “I’m just happy to be here. Your call on the food.”

Thousands of people stood in silence in the Capitol square. They didn’t know how to respond to the morning’s exciting start. Zhao was right to show them the volunteers’ vitals—Sokka was calm up until Ty Lee moved closer to him. Why wasn’t he afraid of Princess Azula? He had no bending skills to defend himself, he knew the Southern Water Tribe couldn’t defend itself against a vengeful Fire Lord Azula, and he had everything to lose from standing up to her. While they might have been impressed at first, no one in the audience understood why the two could remain so calm in the face of Azula.

Joo Dee almost prompted Zhao to dissect the scene. She had no clue how the gamemakers would respond to such an outburst and how they would shape the game around Ty Lee’s unmatched influence over the boy who seemed otherwise a loose cannon. However, backstage the tribute map saw new movement. The producers switched the scene with urgency, despite everyone wanting to linger and see how the volunteers would conduct themselves after such a dramatic rift. The producers didn’t care, instead, they broadcasted the Cornucopia’s remains. A day later, there were two poles, ash, and a tribute on the brink of death.

Suki slowly raised to her feet, using almost all her energy to stand up straight. She looked around, unsure of where she was—this didn’t look like the inside of the Cornucopia, the last thing she could remember. Turning around, she recognized the desert and what felt like its endlessness; Suki remembered the desert. She watched a man lose his mind there. Looking down, her sword lay covered in ash. She felt her last throwing knife in a pocket—she must’ve thrown the other two at someone. Prince Zuko? That made sense, she just struggled to put together a complete narrative of what happened before she lost consciousness. She needed to find water, or shade, something. Suki felt powerless. There were no good options ahead of her, but she needed to start moving instead of just waiting for something to happen to her.


	20. 20

**20**

Sick of sitting around and waiting for a threat to enter into their side of the woods, Katara brushed some of the dirt off her skirt and stood up. Gently bending the water within the leaves back and forth to maintain her new skill, she suggested that the new partners spar with each other. She’d only practiced her bending against Hotah until this point. It was better than nothing, but she didn’t know how to begin to approach fighting a fire bender again, let alone an earth bender. Katara needed as much practice as possible before her and Zuko faced more tributes.

He shook his head, resting on his shoulders as he watched her bend, “I’m not feeling well.” He tried to apply pressure on the knife wound while fighting Suki, but he let it bleed that night. Zuko never let his wound heal, and now he still felt it’s sting, “I kind of need to get some rest. You can practice against the tree trunks or something, right?”

“Excuse me?” She dropped the building leaf wave, almost appalled by how dismissive Zuko was to work with her after he proposed they stick together, “We both need rest. If we’re going to be allies, though, we should help each other out. You were the one concerned that we would need each other to defeat Azula.”

He shook his head as he let himself lay flat on his back, “We’re not allies.”

“Is that _really_ what this is about?”

Zuko sighed and lifted his hand to move his shirt up on his side, revealing the gash Suki left. Acquainted with rejection, he didn’t care if Katara wanted to label them as allies or partners. He just wanted her to practice alone so he didn’t rip the wound open again.

“Oh,” she stepped to him and kneeled at his side, “I didn’t know you were injured, I’m so sorry.” It looked bad. A blade hit him—probably at the same fight where he lost the tip of his ear—and their earlier fight must have opened the wound before it could even begin to heal. He did need to rest, “Can I ask how this happened?”

“Suki and your friend found me the night before last,” He looked away as she tried to speak with him. Zuko knew he needed to keep her at an arm’s distance, for Katara wouldn’t hesitate to strike him once his sister was out of the question. “She had some of Mai’s knives and surprised me.”

“M—Sokka was there? I didn’t know he and Suki were working together.”

“They’re not,” he figured it didn’t serve him much to withhold information. It would just make her mad once she found out he lied. He needed to build trust where he could in their partnership, “They’re not. We fought, and I left her to burn in the Cornucopia, but I haven’t heard a canon since one of them killed Jet. She must be wondering around out here.” 

Sokka killed Jet? Sokka fought Zuko? Why the hell didn’t she know anything about what her brother did in the Arena? Katara needed to remind herself to project a calm demeanor—Sokka insisted that no one know they were family. “Where do you think the two of them are now?” If Zuko knew, then all he had to do was threaten Sokka’s life for Katara to give in to an alliance, to following him. No one could hurt them with each other if the siblings kept it to themselves.

“No clue. I think the guy ran near the mountain when I gave him a chance. Maybe in the same direction as my sister?” He took a moment to try to figure out how Suki could’ve stood back up after their fight. He still didn’t understand how she survived. “Suki can’t be far from the remains of the Cornucopia. It was… an ugly fight.”

Katara shook her head, throwing off the concerns of her brother’s dangers before her face revealed their secret, “Let me look at your wound.”

“I just need to rest.”

“Hotah told me there are healers in the North. I can use my water bending to help you get back on track.”

He looked her up and down, trying to assess her claims, “You know how to heal people?”

“Well,” she stammered, not wanting to admit how backwards the sister Water Tribe seemed. Hotah couldn’t teach how to heal because their tribe felt the need to separate men and women from working together. It felt silly to let Zuko know this after learning about the Fire Nation’s militant gender equality, “I know some water benders can heal. Hotah didn’t learn how, though, so he couldn’t teach me.”

This didn’t reassure him, “So you’re just going to try to figure it out on my open wound?”

“Only if you’re okay with that!”

Zuko sighed, resigning himself to her healing practice, it’s not like she could make his wound worse. If anything, she would splash some water and hopefully clean it of any dirt. Once Katara got a nod from her partner, she looked at his gash, almost studying it for hidden answers as to where to begin. She thought about the human body—Zuko would’ve drank water within the past few days, so it had to be somewhere in him. But that water would be in some organ, and she didn’t want to rupture his bladder just to get some water from him. That sounded like more harm than good.

Maybe she didn’t need to pull from his water—maybe the answer was similar to the leaves. Zuko’s water would be in him, just as it was in the leaves. She watched the blood slowly bubble to his skin and trickle down from the wound as he breathed. All she needed to do was stop the bleeding permanently.

“I’m not sure if this is it, but let me know if you think it helps,” Katara took a deep breath and readied her hands to guide his blood. A scab would stop his bleeding, and if she made a good one Zuko could fight without risking opening the wound again. She focused on the blood pooling near the opening, focusing on the water that must be within the blood, and pulled the liquid into a condensed drop over the entire gash. Just as she covered, Zuko let out a yelp, “I’m almost done, do you think you can make it one more minute?” He nodded, clenching his teeth, but trusting that a few seconds of pain—of feeling out of control—would pay off if he could fire jab without tearing himself open again. She flexed her fingers, spreading the blood to cover the seams of his skin, then drew her finger tips close to each other as if she was turning water to ice. The blood hardened, creating a scab.

Zuko sighed, struggling to differentiate the difference between injury and healing. As he traced his fingers along the new scab, though, he realized she gave him a way to fight again. Suki’s attack couldn’t follow him and slow the partners down. With a nod, Zuko complimented Katara, “This helps. A lot. Thank you, Katara.”


	21. 21

**21**

“You said you have an eye for scavenging good food?”

“Yeah,” he nodded and kept walking with his boomerang ready in case there were animals in the Arena, “I doubt the Arena has the same plants and animals as back home, but a red flag is a red flag.” He turned to Azula, unnerved by the fact that she volunteered herself for their hunting trip, but still trying to make the most of the situation, “How do you think we ate down south?”

“I don’t think about the Southern Water Tribe.”

Right. She wouldn’t give him a break. Ty Lee and Mai saw him as a person, but he was just a tool in Azula’s belt. Disregarding her comment, he stopped and squatted behind a bush. Pushing the branches down, he tried to observe the winged lemur waddled throughout the field. Without turning his head to see her, Sokka motioned Azula to crouch as well. The lemur couldn’t know there were there. He reached into his weapons bag and fashioned his club. Maybe if he could provide for the alliance Azula would give him a sliver of respect.

He looked her in the eye, signaling with his hands that she was to stay behind the bush while Sokka went for the lemur. Receiving a restrained nod from her, he threw himself over the bush, scaring the lemur as soon as he landed behind it. “No, no, no,” He muttered as he began to chase the small animal through the field. All the animals back home where so big and easy to keep up with. Why did this lemur have to run so fast? Right before Sokka could step on its tail, grounding it for him to kill it, the lemur took flight. Raising right above eye level and gaining speed. At this point, Sokka dropped the club and took off into a sprint. Momentarily, he forgot about the princess sitting behind the bush, judging his inability to kill an animal before it had a chance to flee. He was too focused on the possibility of the first meal in two days. Before the lemur could raise above arms’ reach, Sokka managed to grab the tail, pulling it down and taking charge. He held the lemur tight until he walked back to his club. With the tail in one hand and weapon in the other, he sat down to snap its head—quickly, yet decisively killing it so he could skin it later for Azula to roast.

Turning back to the bush, he noticed the girl didn’t look at him with quite as much contempt. For all her arrogance and desire to control the volunteers, Azula couldn’t dispute the fact that Sokka also scored her the first meal she’d eat in days.

“Ty Lee, you’re not doing enough with the boy,” Azula sent Sokka out to gather berries so she could scold her friends for not already having their recruit in total submission, “He doesn’t listen unless you touch him, and even then he doesn’t care about what I have to say.”

She shrunk into herself as Azula berated her. It’s not like her friend would know what it was like to talk to a guy in a non-threatening way. But Ty Lee couldn’t say that, she just had to do better and meet these expectations. “I’m sorry, Azula. I knew he was smart, but I didn’t know he was headstrong. I can try to distract him a bit more, but whenever I try to get really close he starts to get distant. It’s like he has an idea of what’s going on.”

“I don’t care if he puts defenses up. Tear them down.” Sokka didn’t fear Azula like she needed him to. He kept trying to assert himself in the alliance because he knew what Azula wanted from him. As long as he believed that the girls needed him just as much as he needed the group, Sokka wouldn’t submit to Azula, “Make him need you.”

Mai looked him from the knife spinning around her finger, “We can’t give him anything else at this point. He’s a hunter and has all the weapons. We give him a pack, fire, and protection from the three of us.”

Ty Lee tilted her head with confusion, “You’re not suggesting we hurt him, right?”

“He’s our ally, we should still protect him,” Mai looked to Azula, “He’ll never need Ty Lee at this rate. She’s comforting and pleasant, but he can ultimately hold his own.”

“ _We”_ Azula smirked as she pointed to Mai and herself, “Need to break his spirit. He’s composed under pressure, so we need to start hitting at his emotions. Ty Lee, you’ll stay out of this so you can be his one point of refuge when he feels broken to the point of despair.”

The volunteers decided—Azula decided—to start moving again. Even though they had the advantage, it was never a good idea to stay in one place for longer than a day. After eating the lemur for dinner, they all felt a new sense of energy. Azula wasn’t done hunting and letting Sokka feel like he contributed to the group. They left their camp to scout; however, this time if they saw a tribute, they wouldn’t silently make note. Azula wanted to hear canons today, but she wasn’t ready to force anything. The tributes needed to grow more afraid of her before she started chasing them.

This time around, Azula let Sokka walk with her. Mai and Ty Lee followed behind. Suspicious that he would try to outsmart her once she started pushing him, she needed to figure out how his mind worked—she needed to watch him on the hunt. He was confident with the lemur until it tried to escape him. Once he lost control over the situation, he entered into a frantic state, ready to grasp at anything if it meant regaining control and perspective. A lemur is easier to grab than a tribute, though. Sokka dropped his weapon to chase the animal. That was what she kept replaying in her head. A non-bender, he lacked any real threat to life once unarmed. What misguided assuredness led him to fight without a weapon?

“Why are we scouting tonight when we could just go after the earth benders now?” He didn’t like walking at the front of the pack. He knew this was part of a mind game that he hadn’t figured out yet, and Azula was easier to predict from a distance. The closer Sokka got to her, the less he could foresee and prepare for. Walking in step, he lived in the moment—only able to see a few feet ahead.

She kept her eyes forward, answering, but not acknowledging the boy, “Didn’t I already tell you that we want terror to build in them? It’s more entertaining to fight a desperate tribute. If they can survive a few nights in the Arena, they’ll have a new confidence, this place can convince them that they’re actually autonomous.”

Sokka didn’t feel as if he had any autonomy. He lost that once he bludgeoned Jet.

“If we hunted now, we could kill them all, but it would be a massacre instead of a fight. You remember the Cornucopia,” she ruled against talking about the final four with him. If Katara held out, then Sokka really would be in her final four, which would mark the largest number of non-benders to make it so far. However, she wanted to get the Southern Water Tribe out sooner rather than later. Once Mai and Ty Lee sacrificed themselves for Azula’s succession to the crown, Sokka would think that he could actually fight her. It was better to keep him in the moment.”

“Yeah, I remember,” this all seemed like an exercise in brutality. Her massacre would be more merciful at this point. Surviving in the Arena may forge confidence, but it also drove Sokka to his own brink. If Ty Lee hadn’t found him that night, he probably would’ve snapped—maybe he would’ve committed the massacre before Azula could—he may still snap. Like a shell of himself, he felt corrupted at this point.

They walked in silence. Though he may assert himself as Azula tried to domineer their alliance, he didn’t feel great creating small talk with her. He really didn’t want to know her more than what he already did. She would know if his questions tried to get at her weaknesses, so it was better that he just didn’t bother. On a similar note, Azula didn’t care about who Sokka was. She needed him to fight the petty battles and hunt and give her intel on Katara. If she pushed him right now, he would retaliate instead of submit. There was nothing on the line for him while they scouted. She needed to create stakes for him before she started asserting herself over him.

“You know,” he broke their silence, “If we keep moving this fast, we might _burn_ out.” Only Ty Lee joined him in laughing at his own joke. Azula didn’t stop Ty Lee from giggling at his stupidity because she needed him to think they had a bond.

But it was still a pretty crappy joke. Rolling her eyes, she took her jab: “I thought you were supposed to be the smart one among the tributes. I didn’t realize how low Zhao set that bar.”

“Relax, it was just a joke! You know, because of your fire? It can burn, we can get tired hiking and burn out. Ty Lee thought it was funny!”

“My flames don’t burn out, and you shouldn’t be tired from this hike.”

Sighing, he resigned himself, “I was just trying to lighten the mood. It felt kind of stiff around here.” He let the silence overcome the group again. Too tough a crowd for him to try again with a joke. Replaying the scene in his head, though, he realized just what Azula thought of him, “Did you call me a tribute?” 

“You are from the Southern Water Tribe. What did you expect me to call you?” She knew he volunteered, claiming something bogus like protecting his tribe. He knew he couldn’t save anyone from the war by sacrificing himself to die in an arena far from home. She could coax his real motivations from him. 

He swore she had to be bluffing, but she spoke with such assuredness that he couldn’t discern her intentions. Ozai announced a Water Tribe volunteer; he talked to Joo Dee and all those spectators about the kids at home; Azula knew he volunteered. “I thought you would’ve at least listened to everyone’s interviews if you lacked the social skills to actually talk to your opponents. I honestly hope you’re being truthful because you really don’t have the tactical mind you boast if you think I’m a tribute.”

She rolled her eyes, suppressing the urge to light him up right then and there. Azula was done with his disrespect and insubordination. However, when she looked to Mai she realized the situation was in her favor. She didn’t have to punish Sokka for stepping out of line again. All she had to do was pursue their original plan. “Alright,” she crossed her arms, “If you’re so confident in your abilities, why don’t you get rid of Haru?”

“You said we weren’t hunting.”

“I said we’re scouting and we’ll kill who we see. Look up and left,” Finally, she could sic her new fight dog on a tribute, “That’s his supply bag, so he must be close. Do you want your boomerang?”

Zhao couldn’t punish Sokka for associating with Jet like Azula stepped on him for knowing his sister. At this point, he would’ve been better off in the desert with Jet and Suki. At least the gamemakers didn’t try to whittle away at his dignity before killing him. “Yeah, I’ll take my boomerang and find him. You’re not fighting this battle?”

She smiled, having waited for this moment, “I don’t need to face an impoverished earth bender. No one wants to see a tragedy on the big screen.”

He took his boomerang from the holster on his back and turned without addressing her taunt. He was going to snap soon. Did he care that killing Azula would send the fury of Fire Lord Ozai on him? At this point, it would probably be better—at least Ozai would then have to realize his potential. Azula just looked at him like he was regular, without capability beyond serving her. He made his way to the dangling supply bag, noticing that the cliff looked more stable than the last time he walked past. Haru was camped here, trying to make the cliff secure and livable for his own comfort. He had to be near.

Sokka took to looking for signs of travel now that he found the signs of life. Boulders trailed the tree, almost creating stairs to where the boy must sleep at night. He walked down the rocks’ path. He closed his eyes, trying to hear movement. Sokka turned right. He found barren berry bushes. Haru was gathering his dinner right now.

He couldn’t believe he was doing this. Haru and Sokka were both boys just trying to eat in these trying circumstances. He felt guilty following the trail of picked bushes—knowing Haru would become his enemy once he reached him.

Jet’s bloodied and smashed face flashed before him—haunting him, reminding him that he could kill, and that he could do so in cold blood. Who was Sokka to feel guilty for making another enemy from the Earth Kingdom?

He saw himself running from Suki’s burning body. He could kill and he could flee. He had a choice right now. He didn’t have to kill Haru, he could start running again. He knew where his sister was, he could find her, and they could fight Azula together.

Sokka looked back to his alliance. Azula would shoot him with lightening if he tried to run. Mai stood, still though, she almost challenged him to prove he had a moral compass to act with. And Ty Lee—Ty Lee sat with him in his lowest moments and kept him grounded. She was counting on him to fight for the alliance she let him enter, and he was counting on her to remind him that Sokka still existed no matter what hell he faced in the Arena. He couldn’t betray Ty Lee’s trust, her hope in him, like that. If he ran when things got tough, when asked to act for someone other than himself, she’d realize how small he really was. Sokka followed the trail of picked bushes.

He knew what he was doing, and he found Haru a few meters down. Sokka was a volunteer. This wasn’t his game to fight. Mai was right—not all of them had the luxury of playing with their own moral compass. He was playing for Katara, but on Ty Lee’s moral compass. He drew a deep breath in, watching Haru pick berries and place them in the bowl he made out of his tunic. He raised his arm, checking the angle to hit the tree so that it would bounce to where Haru stood. Sokka had to strike him before he stood up, he couldn’t bear to see Haru’s last emotions as he faded into the black. He closed his eyes and threw the boomerang.

He heard the metal hit the tree trunk.

He heard the metal hit skin, bone, something snapped.

He opened his eyes, catching the boomerang.

He heard a canon sound, letting everyone know that someone killed another.

He walked back with a red boomerang and joined the group. Azula stood smiling, ready to greet him as more of an equal this time. Maybe he had proven himself an actual part of the alliance, or maybe he just demonstrated that he was capable of listening to Azula and fighting as she dictated. Instead of just sassing her when he felt like it.

Ty Lee embraced him before Azula could say anything. He felt his shoulder grow wet as she whispered into him apologies, “I’m sorry. You’re so brave, I know how hard that must have been, and you are so brave.” She apologized for everything I felt, validating the swarming emotions he felt as he returned. He let himself hug her back, despite feeling guilty of her kindness.

Mai and Azula gave the two their space. Sokka only needed to be dependent on one of them, and Ty Lee knew what heart strings to pull. She drew back, holding his arms as she let him see her tears, showing Sokka just how much sympathy she had for him. “It’s a necessary evil, Sokka, we have to do stuff like this here, and I’m so sorry that you had to do it today,” he tried to remain stoic before her, still fooling himself that he led in their relationship.

As Ty Lee wrapped Sokka’s emotions around her finger, cracking his warrior exterior and letting him be vulnerable with her, the others watched from a distance. Mai and Azula admired how influential their friend could be, and Suki, hidden in the branches above Haru’s supply bag, held back a gasp at just how far lost her old ally was. Maybe it was a good thing he abandoned her at the Cornucopia. It looked like he found the allies he deserved here.


	22. 22

**22**

Haru let Suki join him. As she wandered into the mountains after escaping her death bed, he showed restraint, mercy, on her when she was at her weakest. He helped her into the tree she could rest in the nook where branch met trunk. Haru was gathering dinner for her as she tried to recover from the widespread burns when her old ally threw his boomerang. He told Joo Dee he would try to become a killer, and Suki witnessed the boy transform into one. She was right to keep him at a distance—even if that distance near killed her.

Now crouched in the tree above Sokka and Ty Lee, she thought about throwing one of Mai’s knives at him. With some rest now, she felt like she had a chance to hit something vital. However, she stopped as Ty Lee rushed to comfort him. Mai and Azula watched as the two embraced and cried and held each other through a moment of brutality. What was he doing with the volunteers? He seemed disgusted after Suki told him what Mai said about herself. He was too vulnerable with her after killing Jet to have lied, though. What the hell was going on with the volunteers?

She had her three knives and a sword. She could aim and take out Sokka and Ty Lee without the other knowing and then try her luck with Mai and Azula. But she wanted to confront Sokka; Suki wanted to make him feel what he left to her. Throwing a knife at an artery didn’t bring justice. Killing Ty Lee would break him, but not in the way she wanted. She wanted all of the volunteers to be afraid. They couldn’t trample through the Arena like this, without respect for their opponents and seeking joy in the brutality. She’d seep to their level if she killed Ty Lee as she comforted her ally. It was brutal to kill someone as they hugged someone—even if the relationship was suspicious and they acted in cold blood. She showed mercy at this moment.

Suki threw Mai’s knife down and away from the tree, letting it glide through the skin of her neck. As her blood started to breech the wound, Suki started climbing the tree, knowing that it wouldn’t take more than a minute for Azula to find her. Ty Lee dropped her arms, pushing Sokka aside as soon as she heard Mai let out a yell. She watched her friend fall to her knees, grasping her throat as if to hold onto the air she couldn’t breathe anymore. She didn’t know how to save her.

Azula let Mai fall to the ground, not bothering to help what she couldn’t control anymore. “Climb!” She barked at Ty Lee as the canon boomed, knowing they still had a chance to find and kill whoever attacked Mai. Suki breached the tree canopy, trying to sort through what she just did while looking for a place to run. Did she just kill Mai for being in an alliance with the Sokka? She wouldn’t kill a person because someone else abandoned her. Did she kill Mai for seeming close to the boy who burned her? No, that was why Zuko would be next. She killed Mai for volunteering, for being complicit in this whole theatre of brutality. Suki didn’t have the means to kill Azula yet, but she could at least get someone at fault for waging this war. Ty Lee climbed toward her—only a few feet below her. Taking a deep breath, she decided a burn wound couldn’t stop her from running. If the fire didn’t kill her, Suki wouldn’t let its marks stop her from continuing her fight.

She leapt to the next tree.

“What are you doing?” Azula yelled toward Sokka, who took such time to stand back up after Ty Lee pushed him to pursue justice, “You’re not exempt from this fight. Move!” She threw the bag of weapons toward Sokka, trying to hurt him, while also signaling that he needed to chase after Suki too. Azula, however, stood in place. She watched through the leaves, noticing that Suki moved away from the first tree. Good.

Inhaling, she warmed herself and searched for the negative charges throughout the air. Confirming the tree Suki poached on, she readied herself. Azula drew the lightening, letting the bolt linger until Ty Lee could receive the message to stay put for a moment. Azula guided the lightening, aiming for Suki’s trunk. She released the energy, letting the lightening bold travel its way through the tree.


	23. 23

**23**

She couldn’t seem to die. Taking a leap of faith right as Azula aimed at her, Suki jumped to another tree canopy. And then another one. And she didn’t stop until she lost the volunteers. She couldn’t tell where she was. The mountain’s peak seemed to almost mark the end of the Arena from a distance, like the gamemakers made half of a mountain and called it quits before giving it dimension. However, it looked as if she made it to the other side. It was quiet. The wind moved slower and the cicadas stayed on the other side of the Arena.

Suki was alone to grapple with her actions. Just a few days ago she thought her and Mai could have been friends without a war. But Mai was complicit in the war and the terror of The Hunger Games. Justice could be difficult, but it needed a shepherd in this battlefield. It felt good to be alone. She turned the three most dangerous volunteers against her half an hour ago, but they hadn’t caught up to her yet. Right now, Suki could breathe for the first time since the reaping.

She didn’t know where she would go from here—where she could go. She killed the daughter of a prominent gamemaker, the Fire Nation princess’s ally. Earlier she thought she could forgive Sokka. As she replayed that night at the Cornucopia, she realized that he let her fight her battle. He wanted to support, but not command their old alliance. By the time he could’ve stepped in to help her, he probably thought she was a goner. As she trekked through the Arena once she first woke up, she didn’t hold it against him. Survival has a high cost.

But embracing a Fire Nation volunteer and seeking emotional support from her is not included in the price. She thought he was tip-toeing a deep end when he killed Jet. An alliance with the Fire Nation was beyond that, though. He killed Jet to survive and fight another day for the Water Tribe. He sold his family out for comfort on the battlefield, though.

With just her sword and one of Mai’s knives, Suki was truly alone in her fight for justice. Badly burned, every motion hurt. Still, she fought for more than herself. She couldn’t give up just because things were hard.

He stayed quiet as Azula demanded he speak to Suki’s strategy. Under her mind, Sokka must know what direction Suki went—the two were allies before he was dumb enough to think Zuko killed her, obviously, he would know her endgame or at least how she thought. Suki thought quieter than Sokka, though. He didn’t know what she planned. He knew how she thought of his plans and how she fought.

Ty Lee stepped into the discussion—if one could call Azula berating Sokka as he stood still in shock a discussion—to try to get the information out of him a different way. She walked closer to the boy, but still kept him at an arm’s distance. Still reeling from her friend’s death, Ty Lee didn’t have the capacity to seduce Sokka into betraying his former ally and hunting her. She could try, but she wasn’t available to give it her all. She raised her eyes to look into his.

“I’m so sorry,” He closed his eyes and turned away before Ty Lee could speak, “I didn’t know she was alive. Believe me, I would’ve saved her if I knew what was coming.” Too stricken by grief—primarily Ty Lee’s grief and not his own—he didn’t recognize he wasn’t telling the truth.

“Let’s focus on recovery. Mai wouldn’t have wanted us to wallow,” She rested her hand on Sokka’s wrist, trying to get him to focus on what lay ahead of them, “I know you don’t know where Suki went, but you’re the only one of us who fought with her. I’m trusting you to lead us in her direction.

Her words hung in the air as he processed them. Yeah. She made sense. He nodded and started moving forward. Suki didn’t seem like one to backtrack, so it only made sense of him to push into the unknown.

“What does she have on her?”

“A sword and one more knife.”

“You saw her fight Zuzu?”

He nodded, unsettled by how fast Azula returned to her usual demeanor. This was all business to her. She knew Mai was eventually going to die, so she didn’t care that it already happened. She’d see to the death of Suki, and then move on. Sokka couldn’t wrap his brain around how she worked.

Suki listened to the alliance as they walked closer to her. With less trees around, she didn’t have much ability to hide. They’d anticipate her to attack from above and look up first, so she decided against climbing the tree she sat against. Instead, Suki decided to stand her ground. Unable to die this long into the game, why not face her enemies head on?

Gripper her sword, she walked away from the trees and toward the path the volunteers walked along. Her and Sokka caught each other’s eyes as he led the pack before anyone else saw her. He didn’t say anything. But he kept walking. So he was a coward, Suki realized, afraid of both her and the volunteers.

It didn’t take much longer for Azula to spot her, though. To Suki’s surprise, she didn’t draw a flame on sight. She just stopped walking, motioning for her lackeys to do the same.

“Ty Lee,” the fire bender drew her words slowly, treating this more like a game than revenge for her dead friend, “It looks like we’ve found the Kyoshi Warrior who thought she could bring justice to the Arena. So hopeful,” Azula paused, changing her tone for the worse, so misguided.”

Neither Ty Lee nor Sokka responded to Azula. One too grief-stricken, the other unable to pick an allegiance. Every wrong move he made continued to haunt him. He couldn’t make it out alive, too many of his allies would kill him for one misstep right now. 

“Sokka did such a good job killing Haru,” Azula strolled closer to Suki, paying no mind to her drawn sword, “And I’m not really in the mood for a fight right now. Ty Lee, what do you think about your boyfriend killing the Kyoshi Warrior that flew too close to the sun?”

Ty Lee exhaled, forcing her voice to sound stronger than how she felt, “It seems pretty fitting to me.”

“Azula, do I get a say in if I want to fight Suki?” He stammered, twiddling with his hands instead of reaching into his weapons bag. There was no good move he could make. At this point, he just needed to decide if he would die beholden to the Fire Nation or with some remaining dignity.

Suki, however, took this as just an effort to deceive her. She knew his true colors by this point. Azula turned to Sokka, looking at him with more contempt than she did Suki, “Sure, you can have a say. After all, Ty Lee, Mai, and I welcomed you into our alliance when you had no one. Ty Lee continues to stand by you even as you make the dumbest decisions I’ve ever witnessed, but you are an equal in this alliance. Go ahead, Ty Lee and I vote that you kill her. It’s only fair you also get a say.”

He glanced in between Ty Lee and Suki. He didn’t want to kill his old ally. He respected her too much to take her life. But he couldn’t let Ty Lee down—not after everything she’d done for him, not like this. She took him in at his lowest point and looked after him while Azula continuously threatened him for just existing near her. If it wasn’t for Ty Lee, he may not have recovered from his first night in the Arena, from the fall-out of the non-bender alliance. He couldn’t abandon Ty Lee.

He looked to her, letting himself forget the tragedy of the moment as he gazed into her eyes. She was there for him throughout it all. Sokka stopped. He kept eye contact, but hardened his gaze, “You knew.”

Ty Lee felt lost, overcome by emotion and just wanting him to end this tragic day so they could move on and set up camp for the night, “What?”

“You knew. You knew all this time.”

“Sokka, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“When I told you I saw Zuko kill Suki, you didn’t hear a canon. You knew Suki survived and didn’t say a thing.”

Azula stepped in, “You didn’t hear a canon either. Who’s to say you weren’t lying to us? We thought you were trying to manipulate Ty Lee for access into our alliance.”

“Bullshit,” He drew his war club from the bag, “I was in a state of shock, I barely knew where I was, and all of you knew that. You found me in my weakness, and let me believe Suki died.”

“What were we supposed to do?” Ty Lee sheepishly tried to defend her actions.

“I don’t know, maybe tell me the truth? Maybe you could’ve just let me move past the camp and just survived by myself? Really, you could’ve done anything but rope me into this twisted group under the guise that my ally was dead.”

“Sokka, you’re being irrational,” Azula crossed her arms and walked toward him, intimidating him until he remembered her heat, “I asked for your vote on whether or not you should kill Suki. It doesn’t matter that she survived my idiot brother’s attack. I said that you should finish his work.”

He shook his head and looked past Azula, to Suki, who seemed a little too indifferent for watching a group debate her demise, “I’m not abandoning her again.” Watching Azula’s face fall, he swung his club at her torso before she could light him on fire. She tumbled down, catching herself before she hit the ground.

She readied her flame, but Ty Lee worked faster. She launched herself into Sokka, jabbing each pressure point before Suki struck her sword against Ty Lee’s arm. With Sokka immobilized, Suki still stood at the disadvantage.

“You’re just a village girl, you don’t get to kill volunteers in this Game,” Ty Lee hissed as she pushed toward Suki. The warrior dodged the onslaught of jabs, tripping the volunteer as Suki clung to the ground and moved toward Azula. She grabbed the shield from Sokka’s abandoned bag, hoping it could withstand a lightning strike.

The princess looked for a camera within the tree branches, knowing the world watched this fight. She needed to kill Suki and Sokka decisively or let them pass. “As if a shield could protect you,” she rolled her eyes, choosing the latter, “I don’t think either of you two realize just how much your games rely on luck.” Azula wanted to see what would become of Sokka. He stood up to her more than anyone else had in a long time. She wanted to play with him a little more, even if it meant drawing out the Games and giving him a chance to rebuild his confidence, “So I’ll just let your luck run out. I don’t expect too long of a fight the next time we meet.”


	24. 24

**24**

“So,” Suki stopped walking and turned over her shoulder to look at Sokka, hating herself for walking with him once again, “Do you want to explain all of that, or should we just go our separate ways now?” She didn’t know why she was giving him a second chance. Confident that she could hold her own in the Games, she guessed a small part of her wanted someone to work with just for the extra set of eyes. Things changed so quickly in the Arena, and she knew he was perceptive. Or at least she thought he was before everything fell apart. Suki didn’t understand how someone so observant could fall under Fire Nation manipulation.

“There’s no excuse for what I did, I am so sorry. I thought Zuko had killed you and I—”

“So you tried to save yourself. Explain what happened with the volunteers’ alliance.”

He sighed, regretting every decision leading to this. He couldn’t lie to her anymore. If he wanted any chance at earning a morsel of her trust, he knew he needed to give her the whole story, “Ty Lee approached me after my private with the gamemakers. She could tell I had a terrible go around, and she was offering to talk for comfort. It was a shameless attempt at flirting to get information on how I did.”

“That doesn’t explain what happened here.”

“I know,” he lowered himself to a sitting position, ready to tell her everything, “Zuko told me to run before he could kill me, and I did. I’ve never been so ashamed of myself and I couldn’t believe I was that cowardly. But I ran. And Ty Lee stopped me right before I moved past the volunteers’ camp. I thought you were dead, and in the moment, she seemed so nice and comforting. Looking back, I see she was just trying to win me over and knock my guard down, but I fell for it. I was alone and scared. She said I could work with them and join their alliance. I didn’t want to, but I knew Azula would shoot me if I ran.”

She sat down across from him. Willing to listen, Suki still kept her distance as he tried to retrace the disaster of his game. He sounded so fragile, in action and in reflection.

“You probably think I’m so scared of death that I’ll be a mercenary for anyone. That’s not the case, though,” he let out another breath, trying to find the courage to tell her the truth, “I lied to you earlier. I didn’t volunteer for any of the kids at home, none of them are old enough yet to be tributes.” Sokka avoided eye contact, instead choosing to look into the distance as he spoke. Was he betraying his sister in this moment? Had Suki given him any real reason for him to trust her, or was he really just following anyone so he could survive? No, he figured she was genuine. And she was giving him a chance. “I told Joo Dee I wasn’t playing to win, and that part wasn’t a lie. Um, I don’t know how to really say this, I’m sorry.”

She couldn’t determine his objective with any of this. He danced around any concrete event, speaking around anything incriminating.

He lowered his voice, speaking quieter than a whisper. As the wind picked up, Suki could barely hear him. He spoke to her, not the cameras nor the audience. “Katara is my sister. The South was only supposed to send one tribute, and the Fire Nation specified they wanted a bending representative. But I couldn’t just watch them take her away to fight to her death. I’m not trying to win; I’m just trying to do everything I can to protect her until she can go home.”

“Why’d you kick the canteen away from her at the Cornucopia?”

“I scored a two, and she got a nine. Zhao hates me and will do everything he can to kill me now that I’m away from Azula. If Katara and I stayed together, my presence alone would endanger her.”

Skeptical, she tried to follow his logic. This all seemed like a stretch. “How does working with the Fire Nation alliance protect her any more than you staying alone after leaving me in the Cornucopia?”

He perked up, ready to defend himself for running again—he thought she was gone—but held his tongue. He didn’t need to re-explain his weakness from that fight, “Azula knows Katara is probably going to be her biggest fight in the Games. She only let Ty Lee flirt with me because she knew I spent a lot of time in training with Katara. I know it looked like the other volunteers were just using me to kill the tributes they didn’t want to bother with. They were. But they were also using me to learn about Katara. I stayed because I knew I could feed them false information. Prepare them for the wrong fight.”

Just like what Suki did in her private. She wasn’t wrong in believing he was smart when they first teamed up. “And you stayed because Ty Lee wrapped you around her finger, right?”

He pushed back, embarrassed on many fronts, “I don’t think we need to talk about my relationship with Ty Lee. It wasn’t my best moment.”

“Literally this afternoon I saw you two hugging and crying together.”

“I was more in control of that relationship than what you think I was!” He actually wasn’t. Ty Lee was good at letting people believe she wasn’t guiding them as much as she did.

“Were you planning on leaving her then? Surely, you saw how manipulative she could be and that you didn’t stand a chance once Azula grew tired of you.”

She caught him there. He never decided on a timeline for his stint with the villains. He just took it hour-by-hour, hoping to mislead them from Katara. Sokka shrugged off Suki’s question, wanting to move on from the conversation. “Why did you kill Mai instead of me after everything?”

“I didn’t think it would do just to kill you from above like that.”

A smile crept onto his face, “Wait, really? That’s actually so nice to hear.”

“I don’t think you realize how much bad you’ve done in siding with Azula and the other volunteers. Killing you then would’ve been too merciful, and I still don’t know if I believe you deserve justice.”

Oh.

“Why should I believe any of what you just said? You convinced Jet you were saving him from Azula, pulling him into a fake alliance just to kill him. You abandoned me to die. The second the volunteers welcome you as their own, you jump in with them. You’re such an opportunist, that I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole thing about Katara is a lie,” She didn’t call her his sister. On the slim chance he told the truth, she couldn’t betray his secret by repeating it for any cameras lingering over their conversation. “Why’d you decided against killing me? Were you sick of the Fire Nation volunteers forcing you into submission? The second you realize they won’t respect you for your supposedly magnanimous strategies, you take the first opportunity to burn another bridge. I didn’t challenge and belittle you like they did, so you figure I’ll make a more agreeable ally, right? Well, Sokka, just because you volunteered doesn’t mean you have an ounce more of control here. I’ve seen you lie and run when things get hard. I have no reason to believe you right now.”

He finally looked back at her. Ashamed, he didn’t know where to go from here. He told her the truth, and she rejected it. He probably would’ve felt the same if he was in Suki’s shoes. “I understand,” he paused, trying to collect his thoughts before he spoke, “You’re right to seek justice, and you’re right that I haven’t given you a reason to trust my word. Let me ask for a chance, though. I’ll let you administer justice however you see fit, and I’ll do anything you ask, but hurt Katara. Let me prove myself to you.”


	25. Chapter 25

She stayed in her cave as the Fire Nation anthem played. There were two canons earlier today, signaling that tributes died, and during the anthem the sky would display the name and image of the fallen. Unable to see who they displayed in the air, Toph didn’t bother leaving her campsite. Surrounded by the earth and with a bag of nuts from the Cornucopia, she didn’t feel too compelled to leave just yet. There were six people still running around outside of her cave if she counted the canons correctly. She knew Aang, Hotah, and Yue died in the beginning, but the other deaths occurred to far away for her to feel their vibrations. It made more sense to outlast whatever unknown enemies trudged throughout the Arena.

For a moment, she felt as if she was wasting her potential. The Blind Bandit, she knew how to beat anyone. Toph was no stranger to wrecking grown men five times her size in a fight. Killing someone was probably different, but she felt like she understood the gist of it. She knew she could handle whoever was left, so she felt weak for staying in her hideout for as long as she did.

Toph was growing bored, after all. Even if she wasn’t ready to decrease the number of tributes, she could still get into some petty fights. Throw some rocks, weaken the other tributes. Outlasting didn’t just mean living in a cave hidden away from everyone else. As the Fire Nation anthem followed a crescendo into its concluding notes, Toph stood up and brushed the dirt off of her. She could see just as well at night as in the day, but the other tributes were at the disadvantage right now. Without a reason holding her back, she threw the nuts into her pocket and left the cave. Making sure no one could take refuge in her hiding spot, she lifted a door of rock from the ground to seal the cave’s entrance before moving out.

“Mai,” Zuko barely spoke her name as he saw her portrait flash in the sky. Following Haru’s image, she faded in and out. The Fire Nation emblem replaced her face seconds later, as if they were done mourning her. He held his breath, trying to keep his emotions contained within him. Katara, laying at his side on the grass, wouldn’t understand. She didn’t have a loved one—was Mai a loved one—in the Arena with her.

Cast out of his sister’s alliance, Zuko missed Mai’s final moments. He didn’t even know how she died, he didn’t get to say goodbye. His only friend somehow became just a canon shot to be forgotten as the Games continued. His father made her into a pawn for his war, even though she’d done nothing to deserve going out like this.

“Are you alright?” Katara turned her head to face him, but he was fixated on the unmoving sky. She knew Zuko never dated Mai, but the two seemed closer than most. This couldn’t be easy for him to process, and she didn’t know how to comfort him. They all had to die eventually, and Mai volunteered for this fate. It didn’t justify it, or make any of this okay, but he still must have expected this.

“No,” he finally let himself take a breath, “I’m never alright.” Someone must have attacked her. The non-bending volunteers almost always made it to the final four since they were recruited to defend the fire benders. Azula was waiting to kill her friends, and she wouldn’t willingly allow anyone to kill the volunteers first. One of the tributes probably thought they were slick, killing one of the volunteers and then running before Azula could get her revenge. He needed to know who killed his friend.

Katara opened her mouth but closed it, struggling to find the words. She didn’t have any obligation to support him right now, but it would be cruel to leave him with this grief. “I know you two were close,” she turned her face to look back at their shared sky, “she didn’t deserve whatever happened to her. I’m really sorry, Zuko.”

He kept silent for the next few minutes. Katara didn’t know Mai. How much could her condolences mean for someone she didn’t know—someone she probably wanted to kill if it meant she could go back to the South Pole? Mai was an enemy to Katara. Zuko didn’t mourn an enemy, he missed his friend. He missed the girl who laughed at his jokes, and tried to make him smile when he was frustrated at the world. The two of them used to feed the turtle ducks together. Azula and Ty Lee made fun of them for their friendship, but Mai seemed unbothered by it. And now his sister’s ambition separated Zuko from Mai so he wasn’t there to be with her in the end.

She was just a girl, a student at the Royal Academy. Her dad was the military big shot—if anyone of her family were to die for the war, why wasn’t it him? What did Mai do besides succeed in her classes, forcing her to volunteer? This was wrong. His father was a monster for orchestrating such an event every year, sacrificing the young just to entertain a population sick of a hundred-year war. He finally looked in Katara’s direction, only speaking once she turned to make eye contact, “I know we’re not allies, and we only promised to help each other with taking down Azula. But I’m going to kill whoever did this to Mai tomorrow. Are you coming with me?”

Katara knew Zuko was angry. His temper fueled all of his violence throughout training, and she couldn’t imagine leaving someone to burn in a flaming Cornucopia without preexisting anger issues. However, this was the first time she’d witness him acknowledge his rage and plan to act on it. She wanted to talk him down—they didn’t even know who killed Mai, “Who are you going to kill?”

“I know you didn’t kill her. I doubt Azula or Ty Lee did, so that leaves everyone else. And then Azula and Ty Lee were next on our list anyway.”

But then she thought of her mother. The woman who died trying to protect a child from the Fire Nation’s inexplicable brutality. Her mother’s killer wasn’t in the Arena, but she understood Zuko’s unguided rage. The Fire Nation needed to pay for what it did to her mother, and everyone in this Arena was now a soldier within the Hundred-Years War. She understood him. “I’m ready to start moving now if you’re ready.

The two girls sat around a blue camp fire. They stood when the Fire Nation anthem played, but neither of them watched Haru and Mai appear in the sky. It hurt both of them too much to see the reminder of their lost friend and their inability to stop a non-bender from an Earth Kingdom village. Had Azula not been performing to justify her future reign, she would’ve killed Suki right then, but her father instructed her to appear at least a little likeable. A stupid request in her mind, but with the world watching, she understood.

Ty Lee felt actual sadness—not the bitterness at the lack of a fight that Azula felt. For the first time in her life, Ty Lee felt alone. Mai was always there. But death overpowered loyalty, and now Ty Lee sat across from her other friend, but felt strange, as if she couldn’t express the same feelings she confided in Mai anymore. Maybe it was because she knew while Mai was loyal to friends before the Fire Nation, and Azula wasn’t, or maybe it was her lethal ambition, but regardless, the alliance no longer felt like a relic from home. She was alone.

“I have to ask,” she broke their silence after they sat once the anthem turned off, “Did you actually have any feelings for that Water Tribe boy?” Though she knew his name, Azula felt as if she needed to continue to degrade Sokka. She would never admit this, nor could she explain it, but she felt the smallest challenge from him. Logically, he posed no threat to her. Still, unless Ty Lee completely snuggled up to him when he was scared, he always looked like he was thinking. He may not be able to bend, but he could anticipate things in a way that the other tributes could.

Ty Lee stared into the fire, “I don’t really feel like talking.”

“Well, that’s too bad,” Azula didn’t really care about how Ty Lee felt. Mai was dead, but from the reaping, they both knew Mai would die. It happened earlier, but that only meant they needed to strengthen their game. She showed mercy to Suki for the show, but going forward the volunteers needed to be ruthless, “Because I want to start planning ahead. Now that Sokka’s not under our constant watch, he’ll start raising problems throughout the Arena. How did you really feel about him?”

“Azula…” she trailed off, feeling sick at the thought of tomorrow. She wanted her friend back, and nothing they did would resurrect Mai.

“Oh, Ty Lee,” she put on a condescendingly sympathy, not even pretending to care, “Today was so sad, so I guess you’re right. Let’s just sit here and feel bad that way we can just join Mai tomorrow. That sounds like a really strong decision.”

Ty Lee finally looked to Azula. Her face hardened, unable to understand how someone could be this cruel in the face of losing a friend.

“Glad you’re finally listening now. How did you really feel about Sokka?”

She shrugged, unsure how to create a coherent sentence of her swirling feelings, “I don’t know, he seems sweet. I thought he really cared about the Southern Water Tribe, and that was really endearing. I liked listening to how he thought, but he kind of kept that to himself when he felt alright.”

“What all did he have to say about Suki? Do you think he’d work with her again, or do you think he’s on his own?”

“He won’t work alone,” Ty Lee thought Sokka was cute and smart from the beginning. As she brought him closer to her, he confirmed her predictions, but still managed to surprise her. The boy was loyal. She almost felt guilty at some points, knowing that she reeled him in with false pretenses. Had they run into each other on any other night, one where he wasn’t reeling from a supposed death, he would’ve studied everyone in the group before giving any of them his trust. “He’s loyal, but I think he’s really careful with it. If he made the decision to work with her earlier, I don’t see why her would abandon her now that he knows she’s alive.”

“Well, if he’s so loyal, do you think he’ll come back to you? Do you still have any influence over him?”


	26. 26

**26**

The earth beneath him ruptured, shooting upwards, and throwing Sokka off of it. As he landed in the tree branches above, Suki woke to his scream, the last earth bender found them. Jumping to her feet, she readied her sword, looking around her for the girl. Still hidden, Toph created a rumble under Sokka’s tree, dropping him just as soon as she launched him. Really, she was just there to stir the pot. If she could learn more about how the two of them fought, she wouldn’t be mad, but Toph focused on making a name for herself tonight.

With an inhale, she pulled at the ground beneath her feet, giving herself four more feet in height, and started pushing toward the non-benders. As she got closer, she recognized the girl as Suki—she was always kind toward Toph in training. A bit too gentle, not to the point of condescension, but closer than how Toph liked being treated. Now, she felt pretty confident that Suki knew she didn’t need much help. She sent her platforms back into the ground, causing an earthquake as she gained an equal footing with Suki. Her ally couldn’t seem to stand for more than a minute now that Toph arrived.

For no fault of her own, Suki didn’t know Toph’s intentions to withdraw if the fight edged to close to death. With Suki’s battle track record in the Arena, she didn’t assume any of the tributes wanted anything besides a higher body count. She planted her feet and assumed a strong fighting stance with her sword ready. Toph, however, having already initiated the fight, waited. She learned how people fought when they were on defense, but offense taught her how they _wished_ they could fight. She waited for Suki to make a move.

Sure enough, she did. Suki raised her sword to match Toph’s neck and pursued her with a quick step, but not a run. She placed each foot with deliberation, ready to stop for a fight if Toph moved any closer to her. However, Toph instead raised a boulder. Before Suki could come within slicing distance, Toph hovered her hands around the rock, holding it midair, and began to twist. With a forceful pull backward, she shattered the boulder, surrounding her opponents in dust and stepping aside so Suki lost her balance when she swung the sword. Now, as Suki regained her balance, Toph felt Sokka running up behind her. With her right hand, she readied another boulder to throw at his gut. Both his feet stayed on the ground, though.

Both Suki and Sokka knew how to stand their ground. Toph could handle. Her dust polluted their vision, and both allies—if one could call them that—gravitated near each other as they prepared their next attack. Before either could make a move, Toph felt for the ground beneath Sokka. Locating it, she gripped beneath his foundation and pulled the ground, him included, toward Suki, knocking both of them down.

“What the hell?” Suki yelled, exasperated with her unfortunate excuse for a partner at this point. She pushed him off of her and sprang up, lunging towards Toph as soon as she stood. This time, Suki managed to injure Toph as she slid the blade across her left shoulder. Wounding her right near a joint, Suki restricted Toph’s bending abilities. Observant, Sokka watched as Toph dodged Suki’s body, not her sword. Somehow the earth bender managed to predict each attack, but she focused her counterstrikes on her opponent, not the blade that just wounded her. “Are you going to help me out, or just leave me to die again?”

“Give me a few more seconds,” he shouted back as Suki engaged Toph in what was practically a one-on-one fight now. As Toph begun raising walls for her defense, Sokka knew what to do. He didn’t understand how she saw Suki’s movements, but regardless, he knew she couldn’t see something coming from above her. He kept track of the rhythm in which she erected and lowered the walls, and once he felt confidence with his observations, he swung his boomerang. Hitting one wall, she reacted to the incoming object upon impact, but it moved to a further wall, until it latched itself around her back and pulled Toph to her knees as the boomerang begun its course back to Sokka. “Suki, I told you I would prove myself if you gave me a chance.”

The teammates drew near around Toph, surrounding her as she stood back up. “What are you two waiting for?” she demanded, but still didn’t attack or ready any rocks. Not to accept defeat, but she didn’t want to inflame the battle. “I’m not done, unless you are.” Sokka looked over her to meet Suki’s eyes. His face softened. He’d killed two people already and blamed himself when he thought Suki dead. He’d keep fighting if she wanted, but he was ready to call a truce. Weary, he didn’t want another encounter with death until he had to wrestle it for Katara’s survival.

“Where have you been for the whole Game?” Suki understood the look in Sokka’s eyes. She was tired too.

“That’s none of your business,” Toph pushed the earth under Sokka and Suki away, placing everyone at a conversational, instead of agitated, distance from each other. “I’m here now, and that’s what matters. What are you guys up to?”

“We were sleeping because it’s the middle of the night.”

“I was minding my own business, too.”

They spoke over each other. With different levels of comfort with the other, the two made it apparent that they lacked a united front. One boomerang at an opportune time didn’t mend an alliance. Suki took the lead in representing them, “We were traveling together and tried to get some rest tonight. I don’t think we owe you anymore information that what you’re willing to give us, though.”

Toph didn’t really care about an equal exchange, “Are y’all allies?”

“No,” Suki didn’t hesitate. After everything he’d claimed to do, she couldn’t see him as anything more than someone to walk next to for the day. By this time tomorrow, she intended to decide what would bring true justice for his actions. “I don’t work with dishonest people.” He closed his eyes to stop himself from looking hurt. Instead, Sokka stood stoic, not challenging Suki’s claims, nor slandering her character in return.

Despite Suki’s words and intensity, Sokka seemed calm, his heart rate even slowing as Suki distanced herself from him. Without much information, Toph figured a rift in between them. “Yeah, I don’t follow,” she didn’t show the same restraint and confidentiality as Suki. Instead, Toph pushed forward. Out of her cave, she was ready to play these games, “If he’s any good of a liar, how would you?”

This time, Sokka stood up for himself. He kept his voice low and steady, careful not to break the small bit of trust Suki extended toward him, “I think it’s been more of a misunderstanding. We… We had some tough communications, and broke off from a bit. I think it’s been a rocky reunion since then,” Suki’s disagreeing look killed his pun, he sighed, “I don’t want to jump into all the specifics. But I haven’t lied or been dishonest with Suki. The Arena strains partnerships, which I guess you wouldn’t really know yet.”

She didn’t appreciate his self-defense. Sure, Suki understood why he wouldn’t divulge the details with an opponent, but she still felt as if he skated past his atrocity aligning himself with the other volunteers. Plus, she doubted everything he told her was truthful. The Katara line seemed desperate, in her mind, like he was trying to come up with a cover to earn forgiveness through sympathy. “I don’t know about all of that,” her voice trailed.

“He’s telling the truth,” Toph reassured her, “I can feel people’s heart rates. I don’t know what all is going on with y’all, but I can tell you that Sokka isn’t lying to you.” As both of them spoke, Toph tried to figure out whether it would be worth it to make an alliance with either of them. They seemed to have too much drama, though, and she didn’t want to walk on eggshells just for some company.

“Excuse me?”

“Your heart beats faster when you lie, it’s because you get nervous,” she explained, not really sure where she lost Suki, “He said he’s been honest with you, and he’s telling the truth. I don’t know if that means much, but I really don’t understand why you’d disbelieve him.”

“Do you mind giving us a second, Toph?” Once she got a nod, Suki grabbed Sokka but his shirt sleeve and yanked him further away from Toph. The two walked a few feet out of earshot. Neither of them should’ve said anything. But now they had to deal with what came back around to them. Suki, unbeknownst to Sokka, kept Mai’s last knife in her side pocket. She moved her deadline on justice, “Were you hiding anything from me last night?”

He shook his head, “I can give you more information on what went down with me and the other volunteers, but I told you the major stuff. I worked with them, Ty Lee and I flirted, I hunted for them—food and tributes, as you saw.” For the first time in the Arena, just maybe, something could go his way. As Suki leaned toward him, forcing him to step back until his back was against the tree, he prayed he didn’t screw this up.

“So you were being honest last night?” She still struggled to believe. She knew he had such capacity for deception, that Suki would be stupid if she let herself slide through his traps.

“Why would I lie to you?”

“Well,” she turned her head sideways, almost taunting him with a sting in her voice, “You told me you lied to Jet, Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee. I’m not sure I have any reason to believe you.”

He thought about it, “I guess you have a point,” he paused and lifted his hands, almost to orchestrate a puppet show talking with his hands, “But I had specific reasons to lie to Jet, who turned the gamemakers against me, and Azula, who’s determined to kill Katara.” He lifted his right hand, representing Suki, in a large arc as he moved it away from the Jet and Azula hand, “But you? You haven’t threatened Katara or my ability to fight for her, well, until today, but that’s pretty justified after what you watched. What I’m _trying_ to say, is that I don’t lie just for deception’s sake. I have nothing against you, and if anything, I respect your devotion to your community and justice. I enjoyed being allies, and if I earn your trust, I want to keep working together.”

She looked back to Toph. Reflecting on the fight, she realized the earth bender must be able to feel their movements and heart beats. Toph was so intuitive with each move Suki made. Maybe she could read Sokka’s heart rate and honesty. Suki crossed her arms, keeping her defenses up, but moving her hand away from the knife. Death wouldn’t bring justice for what Sokka did. No, he hadn’t atoned for it yet, but if he was really telling the truth, then she was ready to align herself with him again. With a nod, she forgave him, and prayed that he would forgive her for her cynicism. “I guess we have nowhere to go but forward.”

An eager, toothy grin overwhelmed his face. Sokka finally felt assured and confident in his actions. He wouldn’t let go of his second chance. “Allies again?”

She nodded, “Stop worrying about me,” gesturing toward Toph, Suki didn’t want any ceremony for her acceptance. She took Sokka back, but she was ready to work, “Let’s go back and figure out what happens next.”


	27. 27

Seven teenagers remained in the Arena. Two heirs to the Fire Lord, two siblings with a chip on their shoulder, two non-benders wishing for control over their game, and an earth bender just getting started. As the crowds reassembled after lunch to watch the broadcast, Joo Dee reviewed each tribute’s profile. Only three more deaths, and they would enter the final four. With Mai passed, it was already promising to be an unusual finale. Suki now led in bets for the winner, much to the government’s distaste. It wasn’t as if they’d never had a dark horse in the bets—in fact, it helped create the allusion of chance and competition. However, the people bet double on Suki than what they did Azula. And Sokka sat close under Azula, now that he wasn’t sabotaging himself, his support could surge.

Supposedly impartial, Joo Dee urged all Fire Nation viewers to keep betting, it wasn’t gambling if it supported their boys in red abroad. However, in the wings, Zhao was pissed. He turned from the stage and retreated to the gamemakers’ workspace. He pulled up the digital map with everyone’s location, as provided by their monitor, in the front of the room. Sokka, Suki, and Toph stood right where mountain met desert, and with the proper encouragement, Katara and Zuko could find them within the hour.

He didn’t want Zuko to win by any means. The kid was a disgrace to the Fire Nation and would single-handedly lose the war if given anything to command. But he could fire bend. Somehow the audience got it in their mind that village non-benders could compete with Fire Nation royalty. –Which baffled him. The girl near died from burn wounds. Without a miracle, Suki wouldn’t have made it this far? And Ty Lee managed to emotionally disarm Sokka for days. He was smart enough to work alone, but continued to curse himself by aligning with all these people. He sighed, ashamed of how poorly the Games proceeded this year.

“Let’s get a wildfire going behind Zuko and Katara until they get out of the forested area,” he gestured to their flickering lights, “Push them up to where the Earth Kingdom group is, and then turn on the rain. We need Zuko to kill Suki in Mai’s name, but it doesn’t hurt if we give the people some Katara.”

“Sir,” one of the more junior gamemakers stood up and waited for a nod from Zhao to object, “Respectfully, what’s a wildfire going to do? Don’t we risk Katara running away from Zuko, and him being left to fight alone?”

“You’ve never met a fire bender afraid of fire.”

He felt it on his scar before he registered any of the other warning signs. He glanced at Katara, walking on his left, and figured she didn’t feel the heat. Stopping in place, Zuko turned over his shoulder, searching for the source of the fire. It wasn’t his sister—one of them would be dead by now—so it had to be something more natural. Just before the horizon, he saw flames eating at the wooded trees uphill. They lacked Azula’s trademark blue, but that didn’t mean Zhao hadn’t sent them. He reached for Katara’s hand and bolted down the mountain, unsure of where he was going, so self-focused he didn’t explain. He needed to get away.

“Good,” Zhao watched their flickering lights fly closer and closer to the three in the desert. Zooming in on the other group, he turned to his team, “Can we make them fight? I want some disunity.”

“Suki just forgave Sokka, I don’t think they have much to argue about right now.”

“Then think a little harder,” he gestured toward Toph’s tracker, “There’s three of them. Sponsors have donated all week, and now is the time to start dropping gifts. What’s Toph got?” 

“Two servings of meat, some water, and general medicine.”

“Drop the meat.”

At Zhao’s command, a silver tin with an orange parachute descended down in between the new trio. They sat at a stalemate with each other. No one wanted to suggest an alliance, so all just spoke around the idea while not saying much. Sokka wanted to guard his trust, and he didn’t like having a living lie detector to keep him in check. Toph knew an alliance would be good for her, but she didn’t want it. Suki, sitting in the middle, was running out of patience with the Cold War of planning. She just wanted someone to move, even if it wasn’t amicable.

A gift from above granted her wish. She reached for it once it landed, reading the note on the lid for everyone, _“For Toph, the Blind Bandit should be fighting. –The B.”_ Toph, the only one who understood the message, erupted with laughter.

“I didn’t think he’d look out for me like that,” The B, The Boulder, and Toph fought most weeks at Earth Rumble VI. While he didn’t know her identity before the reaping, not many young girls from the Earth Kingdom could score as high in training as she did. With most of the world watching, he must have seen and disagreed with her choice to wait out the first week in the Arena. “Lemme check out what he sent,” she took the tin from Suki and opened the meat. The smell overwhelmed the tributes, it was the first good food any of them caught a whiff of since leaving the training tower. For Toph, it smelt like home, he must have specifically requested a Gaoling recipe.

“That smells heavenly,” Sokka chipped in, even though he was the best-fed after catching that flying lemur. He watched with jealousy as Toph started to eat, wishing that she would offer a bite to him and Suki. They were all hungry, and she had so much right there.

Suki, though hungry, didn’t feel comfortable saying anything that could sound like she wanted something from Toph. She already felt like her confirmation of Sokka’s honesty gave her power over Suki. She didn’t plan to cede any more power to her. “Who’s The B?” she asked instead, “How’d you get that?”

She shrugged to the second question, only explaining, “He’s The Boulder. We used to fight back home. I kicked his ass a lot.”

Before Suki could ask why Toph was fighting people in Gaoling, Sokka instead interrupted to answer about the silver tin, “People outside of our families can sponsor us and donate gifts to help us out. Fire Nation citizens can do that and bet on our chances of winning,” He followed the Games, always afraid that him or Katara would be inevitably reaped. As he expected joining the war effort, he figured it important to know everything he could about how the Fire Nation operated, “It’s why they score us. From what I’ve seen, this is the first gift the gamemakers have sent in, they must have been waiting for the Game to get moving before they interfered.”

“Or,” Toph suggested, in between large bites, “It’s just that no one’s sent anything to you.”

“Haha,” he rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the truth to her statement, “I haven’t seen any tins so far. They were waiting for something.”

“Sir, this isn’t causing any arguments or anything. Should we prod them more?”

Zhao shook his head. Zuko and Katara were only a few minutes away.

When Zuko felt confident Zhao stopped the wildfire, he signaled to Katara to slow down, “The gamemakers are trying to push us somewhere,” he looked around, unsure where they were going, “We’re good now until we run into something worse.”

She noticed her brother and Zuko shared a similar paranoia about the gamemakers’ intervention. While she was ready to take the Game into her own hands, the two of them felt as if they had to respond to an external fight as well. Katara struggled to believe the gamemakers would manipulate the game to such an extent. It was one thing to favor it toward their volunteers, but it seemed neurotic to base strategy on the gamemakers.

“Somebody’s coming!”

“Did you hear that?” Katara turned to Zuko, through the tree barrier between them and the mountain base, she thought she heard a girl. She didn’t recognize the voice from anyone in training—but she also kept to the Water Tribe tributes and Aang, so that didn’t say much.

He shook his head, “No, but I’m ready.” There were three people that realistically could’ve killed Mai. Zuko didn’t know that he was about to encounter all of them at once. He thought of his uncle before moving forward. Iroh would’ve told him to forgive and keep his head down until it was just him and Azula. But Iroh wasn’t here, he wasn’t faced with the grief and rage that consumed Zuko right now.

The two partners drew closer and walked in step towards the voice Katara identified. Without knowing who it was or how many people she was with, the two walked with their shoulders against each other’s, ready to keep guard from all sides. As they breached the mountain base, it started to rain. Maybe, Katara thought, Sokka and Zuko were right, “I think Zhao’s pulling for us,” she uttered just under her breath.

He didn’t register who they found in the Arena, just that they weren’t wearing the red typical of a Fire Nation volunteer. Within an instant of meeting the other tributes, Zuko jumped, flinging large whips of fire around them and landing with a ring of fire enclosing all of them. Despite the gaining rain, he generated a fire large enough to withstand the environment for now. “One of you three killed Mai,” he yelled, getting ready to channel all of his wrath against them, “Who? Which one of you did it?”

Katara’s confidence fell as she watched the flames surrounded the group including her brother. When she agreed to seek revenge with Zuko, she anticipated running into Suki and Toph as individuals. Neither of them were playing with an alliance to her knowledge, let alone with Sokka. How did they end up on separate sides of this fight? Had her brother killed Mai?

“I did,” Suki stepped forward and unsheathed her sword. Still injured from her last fight with Zuko, she stepped forward with a slight hesitation. She wouldn’t call it fear, but Sokka noticed how uncomfortable she looked preparing for a rematch with the prince. “This is war, Zuko. I killed Mai because I had to, and I’ll kill you if that’s what comes next.”

Sokka, avoiding any eye-contact with Katara, stepped forward, blocking Suki’s sword with his boomerang. He stood, ready to speak, but silent for a moment. While he let them believe he paused for dramatic effect, he really just didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t let Suki fight Zuko alone—he pledged his loyalty to her and he wouldn’t abandon her again. But he wasn’t going to fight Katara. He didn’t question her reasons for working with Zuko, looks like both of them gravitated toward the volunteers as allies, but he couldn’t fight them as a team. “Guys, let’s think about this,” he finally broke his silence, “We can’t just let ourselves fall prey to retribution fights. Zuko, this won’t bring Mai back. I don’t think you really want to do this.”

“You don’t know what I want,” he punched a small flame above their heads, which generated a steam cloud, burning them until they all jumped backwards. “Don’t talk to me about revenge until someone kills your friend. Let’s do this.” Conditioned to fight with honor, he waited for his next strike. The steam was a warning. The real fire would wait until Suki, the challenged, agreed.

Suki looked to the Water Tribe siblings and how they both avoided each other’s gaze. Neither of them were ready to break a promise made to their respective allies, it seemed. She wouldn’t make Sokka fight his sister for her, but she wasn’t going to leave Zuko like this. “Let’s go, Prince.” Just as she did with Toph, she started on a planned and deliberate charge toward Zuko. She kept her sword sideways, ready to swing in a fan’s arc to deflect the fire, before launching any attack. As he started kicking out whips of fire, she changed her movements, dodging now. Agile, she escaped another burn.

With anxiety written across her face, Katara finally acknowledged her brother. Wordless, the two stood at a distance trying to figure out their role in this fight. Their conflicting loyalties drove them apart, to help their ally would inadvertently hurt the other. Toph, however, felt no such conflict. She jumped to punch the ground from above, sending an earth quake toward Zuko and Katara. While the girl fell, Zuko, mid-attack, launched into his own fire ring. He rolled out of the flames before sustaining too much damage and struggled to his feet while Katara pulled the rain drops into water whip. Pushing the stream toward Toph, she tied the water around her ankle, and pulled upward, holding Toph above the ground from the stream.

He didn’t let himself wallow in the burn. Instead, Zuko came back up and out, barreling toward Suki and throwing fire punches with each step. With his aggressive pursuit, Suki threw the sword to Sokka and started running toward her opponent. She could dodge the attacks, even close-up. Or at least she prayed she could. Now right next to him, Suki managed to grab his next punch before a flame could release. Pushing his arm away from her face, she redirected his fire and threw his balance. Sending Zuko to the ground, she looked and nodded toward Toph, now back on her feet.

Toph twisted her foot, sending restraints out of the ground and latching around Zuko’s wrists and ankles. Feeling his panic, she stepped, enclosing his hands in a rock so he couldn’t keep sending flames from the ground.

“Sokka!” Suki called to him while she rested her knee on Zuko’s back, “Can I take that sword back now?” Without hesitation, he moved closer to her, ready to give Suki the means to stepping closer to ending Ozai’s bloodline. Katara wasn’t her ally, he told himself as he walked. He couldn’t fight with Suki and protect Zuko at the same time. Ready to toss her the sword, it lifted out of hands.

Katara took the sword from her brother. He didn’t understand what Zuko lost because of Suki’s rage. She couldn’t let him help such a killer. She tightened the water’s grip on the sword and focused her energy to freeze it in a slab of ice. Chucking the ice block out of the ring, she stepped closer into the fight, “This isn’t over.”

She was right. As Katara distracted the rest with her ice, Zuko managed to warm his hands to melt the rocks. He threw himself upwards and pushed Suki off his back. Fighting from his knees, he avoided overly-athletic moves. Instead, he sent fire to the water raining falling down near Suki. He managed to create a steam cloud around her head. While Katara didn’t help him stabilize the vapor, Sokka knew she could’ve cooled the steam down at any moment she willed.

He lunged toward Suki, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her out of the steam cloud before Zuko could heat more clouds around them. She was still breathing, but Zuko managed to raise her body temperature so much that she was feverish now. Alive, but unable to fight, Suki lay unsure of what came next. Sokka placed her on the ground and stood. He grabbed his boomerang and swung it at Zuko’s head. As the boomerang hit Zuko, he fell onto himself, twisting on the ground as the ankle restraints kept him from fully falling to his back. Catching his boomerang and moving forward, he towered over Zuko. Still, he felt speechless as he looked upon the prince. He saw a boy grief-stricken at the loss of his best friend and he saw an unrelenting killer. The two identities existed at the same time, and they created a monster.

“I’m not done yet,” he pulled himself back up to his knees and rubbed the welt on his head as he regained focus. Zuko aimed around Sokka and punched, sending flames to engulf Suki’s head. She screamed, but lacked the energy to cry with anything more than a yelp. Sokka kicked Zuko in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and pushing him back to ground. He loomed large over the fire bender and kept kicking, unable to comprehend everything he just witnessed. As the canon went off, Katara stepped in, pulling Sokka away from Zuko. This fight was over.


	28. 28

**28**

“Let me see your arm,” Katara couldn’t talk to her brother anymore, so she turned to Toph’s injury. Still shaky on her healing skills, she didn’t know if she could help, but she wanted to try. She needed to do something positive for the day.

Toph stepped backwards, “It’s fine.” Despite the fact that she didn’t feel strong enough to seriously bend with her left arm, Toph didn’t feel comfortable letting Katara closer to her. “I’m not asking to see any of your limbs. I think we can keep some boundaries up as a group.”

Katara shook her head, then realized that only Zuko knew she could heal people. She took a gentle step closer, “I’m not trying to pull anything. Water benders can heal, and I’ve just started learning, but it might be worth it to see if I can help.” Toph kept a bitter face, but still nodded, letting Katara sit at her side. The wound Suki left already scabbed over. As she stared at it while trying to think of what she could do to help, Katara realized some of it looked infected. “This might sting a bit, but it helped Zuko. I’m pretty confident it will help, just be patient, alright?”

She raised her hands over the scab, pulling closer to her, which broke the seal and let the blood run again. She needed to get the pus out of the wound. Katara opened her canteen and bended a splash of water to rinse the wound, and then drew blood. Toph winced as Katara worked. It wasn’t so much that it _hurt_ , but that she felt out of control. She couldn’t explain it, but Toph felt Katara in her body. It was as if she walked into her and found the levers in her brain and commanded a mutiny, rallying all of Toph’s cells against her. Once Katara stopped pulling at the blood, she drew her fingers closer together, creating a new scab over the clean wound. It felt like an invasion, but she couldn’t identify the malice. Katara was honest about helping, but Toph felt sick. When Katara finally rested her hand on Toph’s back to let her know the cut was cleaned and healed, Toph couldn’t take it. Even with the regained autonomy, the younger girl stood and ran away until she had to stop to vomit.

As Toph hacked over a tree stump, Sokka finally looked back to his sister, “What did you just do to her?” Hotah said only the women healed in the North when they first met, so he doubted that she learned any of this in training. Had she taught herself how to do this? Did it actually do any good?

Katara, still upset, didn’t make eye contact, but managed to engage, “I flushed the puss away from her wound,” she didn’t want to bring up how she came up with it. Zuko was a sore subject between the two, and even though she already mentioned healing him, Katara knew to avoid the subject of him. “There’s water in our blood, so if I focus hard enough, I can bend it and make it into a scab to stop further bleeding.”

“So why is she vomiting?”

“I don’t know,” her voice trailed with shame. She didn’t blame herself for not knowing the proper technique, but for being able to cause harm without just cause. She was ready to fight, but she didn’t want to go through the Arena with brutality, unlike some of those around her. “I think it’s uncomfortable, like I’m the one in charge of their blood instead of their heart for a few minutes, maybe? I’m not sure how it works, but I was just trying to help her.”

He nodded, following her logic. He didn’t let himself think too much about it. This had to have more power than what Katara gave it—if she could take control over someone’s blood as long as there was a scab or cut, she could knock the entire Arena out by the end of the day. He didn’t know how to tell her this; he didn’t know if it was even okay to have jumped to such a conclusion so fast.

“Sokka,” she finally tried to catch his eye, “Are we going to be alright?”

With a nod, he walked over to her and sat down by her side, “Of course we are. We have some stuff to work out, but when do we not?”

“Oh, don’t worry about Toph, she’s fine,” she mocked as she returned to the others from the puke tree, “She’s probably fine, just over there throwing up everything she’s eaten for the past week. Let’s just go back to our little arguments.” She plopped down across from Katara and Sokka, killing any conversation that may have led to forgiveness. “Y’all are the worst allies I’ve had this entire Game.”

“Aren’t we the only allies you’ve had?” Also, Sokka thought, who said they were allies now? Suki and him called a truce with her, and then Zuko came along, forcing them to work together. Having a common enemy once didn’t mean anything to Sokka.

“That doesn’t make you any good,” she kicked her heel into the ground, creating a chair back to lean on as the group figured out what to do next. However, before Sokka could protest her criticism, another silver tin started to float down.

As it drifted to the center of their conversation, Sokka noted how the gamemakers must be upset with how the Game is going. “They must’ve stockpiled our gifts,” he suggested, “And now they’re trying to get us to act certain ways with what they choose to send down.”

She didn’t want to rehash their earlier discussion about previous alliances, but Katara figured it worth asking: “You mean you didn’t get anything when you were with the other volunteers? I thought if anyone received anything, one of them would’ve gotten something.”

He shook his head, “I scored too low for anything, and they won’t send a Fire Nation volunteer anything unless they’re in a _dire_ circumstance. It makes them look weak like a tribute.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Toph chided, kicking a pebble at his forehead.

When the silver tin finally landed among the group, Katara took it. The label read her name, but bore no message. It must have been from a fan. People from home wrote messages, over-eager Fire Nation viewers just patronized tributes before they died. Whoever decided to help Katara, though, at least looked into Southern Water Tribe delicacies. She opened the stewed sea prunes, and their heat radiated among the others as she took a large whiff of the meal, “It smells like home.”

Before anyone else could comment on the existence of food, Katara already answered the question they felt too embarrassed to ask. “Toph,” she set the tin down, “Could you bend like two bowls out of some of the rocks? There’s enough to share between all of us.” Once Toph created the bowls, she divided it into thirds, pouring it out so everyone had something for dinner.

“I can’t stomach that much,” Toph called out, letting Katara and Sokka split some of her portion, “I still feel nauseous from the blood bending healing thing or whatever that was.”

Once Katara handed them their bowls, they ate in silence. Her and Sokka had already said most of what there was to say to each other. Neither of the two felt great after spending the entire day fighting after Katara pulled her brother away from Zuko. Both of them said a lot they wished they could take back, but they couldn’t. And neither felt ready to apologize yet. So they ate in silence. In a strange way, it made them feel better. It felt like they were back home eating with Gran-gran after bickering because Katara splashed Sokka while practicing her bending when they went fishing. For a moment, this was almost better than addressing the tension between them. They relaxed for the first time in a while.

As Sokka slurped on his stewed sea prunes, he jolted from his false sense of security. He knew they had to send a tin for a reason. The gamemakers had no obligation to send each gift from a sponsor. They always used them strategically—whether to save the fan-favorites, or to manipulate a situation. He set his half-empty bowl down, “I think we should start hiking now.”

“Really?” Katara questioned. They had only been eating for a few minutes. She still had a relatively full bowl and enjoyed the chance to sit without worrying, “This seems like a solid place to set up camp for the night, and even if you want to keep looking, we still have an hour until sunset.”

He shook his head, “It’s not that. Katara, why do you think they sent you this?”

“I don’t know, probably because they enjoyed my interview or how I’ve fought? I’m not following you.”

“Yeah, you’re not,” he stood up to look further away from them, “The gamemakers decide when to send our sponsorship gifts. They try to hold them until they think it’s necessary to drop. You’re not sick or on the verge of starving to death, so that means they dropped it because it’s good for them.”

“Please just cut to the chase.”

“The gamemakers wanted us to sit and let our guard down. My bet is Ty Lee and Azula are close to finding us, and Zhao’s buying them time.”

She stood up to level with him, keeping her hand on her bowl, “I think your paranoid. Let’s just finish eating, and then we’ll reexamine our plans for the night, sound good?”

“No, it really doesn’t,” He scratched the back of his head as he spoke, trying to figure out the best way to disagree without causing another argument, “Not to try to justify anything I did, but I think I have a better idea on how Ty Lee and Azula move. They’ve been waiting for it to get to these sorts of numbers, and they’re definitely hunting to see who’s left after that canon.”

“If they’ve been hunting for us since the canon went off, then why haven’t they found us yet?” Exasperated, she wished Sokka would just sit back down. She thought she would appreciate working with him when they first met up, but in reality, he’d been contentious the entire time. He needed to litigate everything, and they couldn’t act on a decision until he’d analyzed it from as many possible perspectives.

He grunted in frustration, “That’s what I’m saying! They’ve struggled to find us, so Zhao sent you dinner, making us sitting ducks, which buys them more time! We need to keep moving tonight, starting now, that way they don’t kill us as we eat our sea prunes thinking nothing’s wrong.”

Katara didn’t know how to speak to him at this point. He was letting his paranoia govern up, and she couldn’t convince him of anything than whatever disaster scenario he latched onto. She hadn’t slept since the night before and Toph had just vomited everything in her stomach. Their team was in no shape to hike all night, and they’d be safer and more alert if they just ate and set up camp nearby. She needed rest after the hellish day. Finding her brother wasn’t supposed to include killing his ally, nor finding out that he worked for the Fire Nation princess.

As Katara’s face resigned from anger to exhaustion, he realized he couldn’t convince her. The two spent the entire afternoon at each other’s necks because they disagreed with the other aligning with a fire bender. Sokka wanted to just give in and let Katara have this argument, he couldn’t keep exacerbating every disagreement the two had. But he also couldn’t stand by as she advocating for them to just sit and wait for the crazy lighting bender.

“Sokka’s right,” They turned to notice Toph sitting atop her knees with her hand planted on the ground, watching the vibrations surrounding them, “Azula and Ty Lee are coming toward us.”

Now, this pushed him over the edge. Sokka raised his voice for the first time that evening, “Well, why didn’t you tell us this earlier? How far away are they? What direction are they coming from?”

“They just got close enough for me to feel them,” she set the bowl down and stood up with Sokka and Katara now, “They’re coming from the west. We need to head into the desert.”

“See this is Zhao!” He started throwing all of his supplies into the bag and threw it over his shoulder. Grabbing his bowl from the ground, Sokka started walking and turned to beckon his allies to follow him before the other volunteers could join, “We got comfortable for a few minutes, and now he’s pushing us into the desert where there’s no water for you to bend and no trees for my boomerang to bounce off of.”

“Sokka, you have to calm down,” Ty Lee emerged from the surrounding trees and walked toward her old ally. She kept her face soft and her step gentle, hoping to disarm him and remind Sokka of why he stayed with her for so long, “You know I wouldn’t hurt you.” She tip-toed over to rest her arms over his shoulders, hugging him from the back. Katara and Toph stood too appalled to stop her. Sokka never explained this part of the alliance to them.

He closed his eyes and tried to ignore her. He wanted to lift her arms away from him, but he knew touching her hand could lead him to relapse into whatever emotions kept him tied down to her while in the volunteers’ alliance. He took a deep breath and stepped forward, breaking her grip on him. He turned around to face her as he spoke, “You’ve already hurt me, Ty Lee, and I think I’ve learned my lesson. Where’s Azula?”

She pouted, hoping to trigger his emotions. She could overpower his logic and reason if she tried hard enough. She’d done it before, and the company of a few tributes wouldn’t stop her from twisting this boy’s heart again, “Who says Azula is here?” She reached out to grab his hand, dancing her fingers along his before holding it, “After I saw how she treated you the last time we hunted, I knew I couldn’t stay with her. She didn’t care when Mai died, and I realized that her loyalties only lie with the crown.”

He took his hand back.

“You, though? Sokka, you never abandoned me until the end. And even then, that wasn’t really you, right? I’m sure you were just caught up in the emotions of learning Suki actually survived,” She stepped closer to him, unrelenting in her pursuit of his trust for the moment, “Speaking of Suki,” she looked around, feigning ignorance, “Where is she? I thought the two of you ran off together.”

Ty Lee held his cheek as he looked away at the mention of Suki. He knew what she was doing. Toph announced that Ty Lee lied, just in case he was swept up by her flirting, but he knew. Azula was just a few feet away. He couldn’t let his guard down. With a gentle touch, Sokka placed his hand over Ty Lee’s on his cheek. He turned back to her and leaned in closer to her so that their foreheads almost touched. “Ty Lee, you can say whatever you want,” he kept his voice low, “But you have no power over me anymore. I’m not falling for this, and I’m not going to be yours and Azula’s guard dog anymore.”

She dropped the act. Her face fell and she let go of his cheek. Before Sokka could pull away, she used their closeness against him. Jabbing his pressure points, she immobilized him and let him fall to the ground, “Fine, just remember why you didn’t make that decision in the first place,” she jumped over his body and joined Azula, who now stood before Katara and Toph. Two-on-two, she felt confident the volunteers could take them.

“Looks like we finally have something interesting,” Azula announced as Ty Lee stood by her side. Katara and Toph took fighting stances, ready to go. Not wanting to spare anymore time, Azula started. Pushing forward her open palm, she sent a plume of blue flames in between the girls, forcing them to jump apart. She moved to Katara, pushing forward with growing flames each step of the way.

Katara unscrewed her canteen as fast as she could, letting all of its contents out for the fight. She let the water surround her arms, extending beyond her finger tips. With each flame, Katara swung her arm in front of her, dousing the fire before it could burn her. Still, Azula was relentless. The fire came faster than Katara could think, and water tentacles grew predictable quickly. Caught in the same defense, she was vulnerable when Azula switched it up.

The princess spun into a roundhouse kick, throwing flames above where Katara usually swung, and enveloped her face in the fire. With Katara struggling to bounce back, Ty Lee jumped toward Toph, hitting each pressure point just as she did with Sokka, but this time restricting Toph’s bending. With no rush, Azula turned from Katara and breathed. She moved her arms in a circle, generating lightening around her and channeling it through her right arm, past her fingertips, and straight to Toph. Striking her heart, the canon sounded before the girl even hit the ground.

Regaining mobility, Katara dropped her tentacles and froze the water. Breaking the ice block, she threw sheets of sharpened icicles at Azula. All aimed at her vitals, Katara could’ve done damage, had Azula not melted each icicle before it hit her. Losing water, Katara had to think fast. She looked around her. Ty Lee was closing in, ready to block her bending so Azula could strike her before Sokka was able to fight again. Without many other options, Katara sent her water back into the canteen and grabbed the water particles within the leaves above them.

She pulled them down, creating a distraction as she tried to locate the water within the tree trunks. Azula summoned her lightening again, this time directing her aim at Katara. She needed to act fast. Katara found the water at the base of the tree, right where the roots connected in the ground. She lifted her arms slowly, loosening the water at the top of the roots, then moved upwards in the tree, forcing it to the ground. She pushed it backward, aiming its fall onto Azula. Knowing what she was working with now, Katara brought down trunk after trunk. From the sound, some hit Azula and Ty Lee. All she knew for sure, though, was that as she pulled her brother off the ground and started running, she didn’t see either Fire Nation volunteer standing.


	29. 29

**29**

He now understood why Iroh retired after Lu Ten died. He used to think his uncle weak for not unleashing the full force of his anger on the Earth Kingdom soldiers who killed Lu Ten. Zuko did what he thought Iroh should have done. And now Prince Zuko understood that Iroh had never been weak, Zuko was just immature and short-sighted.

After he burned Suki to death—for real this time—his old partner dragged the boy from her tribe away from Zuko. He almost initiated a vicious cycle of rage killings, but Katara managed to stop the two of them from going at each other’s throats. She didn’t look at Zuko the entire time. Katara helped him kill Suki, freezing the sword before she could kill him, keeping Toph away while Zuko honed his fight onto Suki, but once she died she abandoned him. He couldn’t figure out what changed her mind. It made sense to end a partnership when one person went too far into the deep end, but she was working with him as he committed a murder. Zuko couldn’t figure out where he lost Katara.

Toph kicked at the ground again, restraining his wrists once again. He laid on his stomach with his wrists and ankles shackled to the ground. This time she left his hands uncovered so he couldn’t melt the rocks again. While the three left the battleground, stepping over his ring of fire with great caution, Zuko could only lay in the red dirt. If only he’d listened to his uncle, he’d be able to move around the Arena and he’d have a partner. But he was alone.

He needed to get off the ground before he could do anything else. With a steep inhale, he focused on his inner heat and blew fire out of his mouth. Good. He raised his chest as much as the restraints let him. Leaning over his wrist, he blew fire again, trying to melt the rock, but just burning his arm in the process. “No, no, no, no,” he muttered as he couldn’t shake the pain away. Why couldn’t he manage to hold his own in this stupid arena? He ignored the tears welling in his eyes—the burn felt too familiar. Instead, he focused his energy on warming his wrists from the inside to melt the restraints. If he had an internal flame, surely he could channel its heat to his wrists without burning himself again.

“Okay, yeah, I was keeping that part from you,” he crossed his arms in defense. Once again, the siblings found themselves arguing over differences in strategy before linking back up together. “But it’s hard to admit that I fell for Ty Lee’s manipulation, alright? She found me at my lowest, and somehow knew everything to do and say to get my loyalty. I see through her now, though, and we can’t go back and change the past.”

Katara shook her head in complete disbelief that her brother had a romance with one of the volunteers. It didn’t seem like a hard thing to avoid. When one of the most dangerous people starts flirting, that should be an instant red flag, “I thought you volunteered because you were worried I’d make impulsive decisions. And now, I’m hearing that you killed Jet and Haru? You and Ty Lee cuddled and had some sort of twisted relationship for the entire first week here? Honestly, Sokka?” she stopped. She couldn’t find adequate words to express her rage toward him, “It’s like I don’t even know you anymore. I mean, seriously, what were you thinking in all of this?”

As if her ‘partnership’ with Zuko was much different, sans the romance. Both of them pursued some ugly means on the chance that they could end with survival. “I thought it could help you. Besides whatever she figured out from today’s fight, I’ve misled Azula on how you approach things. She thinks your merciful and timid. I will be the first to say my affair was a terrible decision I let happen while in a bad headspace. There’s something to be said for the fact that the girl who wants your head, is preparing for a totally different fight than what you’ll give her.”

“And yet, you still killed two guys who barely did anything to you.”

“Yeah, and I hate it. But you know what? My sister doesn’t have any blood on her hands,” all he wanted to do was protect Katara. He wanted her to go home, and he wanted her to live as happy as a life as she could after such a wretched experience. He understood her anger, but he also just wanted to catch a break. Sokka was doing his best against unspeakable odds, “Katara, I’m trying. I know I’ve made mistakes, but I’m doing everything I can so you can get out of here.”

He couldn’t melt the rock, but Zuko managed to expand the hole left for his ankles and wrists until he could slip out of Toph’s legacy. Freed from the restraints, he stood up and brushed the dirt off his chest. Iroh’s actions rung in his heart, instructing Zuko to go about the Arena with peace from here on out—until he crossed paths with his sister again. He heard a canon while on the ground, someone else died. He ran through every possible scenario. It was possible Katara, Sokka, and Toph imploded and fought among themselves. While likely, he couldn’t figure out how it could play. Katara and Sokka had history, but the two didn’t seem close enough to forge a new alliance at this point in the Game. Maybe Toph killed one of them? Or maybe the trio ran into the Azula and Ty Lee. He didn’t know the landscape he returned to, but he was determined to kill Azula and take the crown from his father.

Zuko started in the direction he watched Katara run at the end of the fight. He wasn’t sure what state their partnership was in, but it didn’t hurt to follow her tracks. Even if he couldn’t rejoin her, he figured she had to be closer to everyone else than he was right now. As Zuko moved back toward the trees, he tried to piece together everything he knew that happened. He had no clue what Toph had done for the entire game, just that her and Sokka worked together. Still, Suki and Sokka looked closer with each other than they were with Toph. Without Suki, he couldn’t imagine a stable alliance between the two unless they were afraid.

He realized he knew nothing about Azula following his departure from that alliance. At some point Suki was able to get close to the volunteers, kill Mai, and escape before Azula could kill her. But that didn’t tell him much about how his sister played. Really, he only knew how Katara played. Every time he saw Sokka, the boy was running, but Zuko had to assume the boy did more than run. The Kyoshi Warrior wouldn’t have aligned with a coward, so there had to be more to his game. Zuko had a lot to catch up on.

As he trekked through the Arena, a silver tin followed him. Once it drifted into Zuko’s hands, the boy looked down to read the note, _Prince Zuko, know your surroundings –Master Piando._ The lesson he always forgot when he studied the blade. Zuko had a natural penchant toward his broad swords, so much so that sometimes he felt a more powerful swordsman than he did fire bender. But his master always needed to remind him to observe his surroundings more. He always distracted himself, hyper-focusing on his opponent, that Zuko made himself vulnerable to everything else around him.

He opened the tin—burn salve. Piando was watching right now, and the gamemakers had to help a fire bender with an immediate need. Zuko sat down in the middle of nowhere to apply a dollop of salve onto his wrist. The cool lotion soothed the pulsating pain that consumed him ever since he breathed fire on himself. He had never felt so relieved.

Still, even as the salve calmed some of his anxieties, Zuko couldn’t help but feel like Piando was trying to tell him something. Yes, the tin bore the lesson Piando had to tell him every time they sparred, but it still felt intentional, not just general advice. He didn’t send the salve immediately, and he didn’t put something more reassuring on the tin. Zuko stood up and put the tin in the bag with his remaining fruit. He walked a circle in place, trying to figure out if his master saw something he didn’t see while hiking. He didn’t see anyone.

Zuko kept moving forward. The three from earlier left footprints as they left Zuko on the ground, letting him follow where they went. It didn’t take him too long before he stumbled across multiple fallen trees. They all fell inward on each other, creating a messy stack of tree trunks. He paused. Under the pile, he saw a blanket of leaves, they all seemed to have fallen before the trunks. This was Katara’s work. She had fought someone since the last time he saw her. She’d only gotten stronger with her plant bending.

He kept walking. His old partner had to be close. He moved slower this time, trying to know his surroundings. This time he tried to listen. He kept following the footprints. This time there were only two sets of feet, one close to his shoe size, and another smaller, but not tiny. Toph must have been the canon he heard earlier. Zuko didn’t really want to know how that happened. The earth bender was just as old as he was when his father burned him. He couldn’t empathize with the fear of dying in this Arena, but he could come pretty close, and he didn’t want to relive such an emotion.

He stopped when he heard voices. It sounded like the only other guy in the Arena; he was yelling, but Zuko couldn’t discern any of his words. With caution, Zuko moved closer and crouched to remain hidden in the bushes.

“Look, Katara,” Sokka took a deep breath, “We have to move on. Both of us made questionable decisions, and I know I made more, but we’re only putting ourselves at risk by bickering after every fight now.”

Katara nodded, but didn’t look content with any of what he suggested. Sokka may have been right, but that didn’t mean she appreciated how fast he just wanted to move past how he let Ty Lee play with his heart. “Fine, let’s just put this all past us. We have bigger things to worry about, so we should probably start thinking ahead.”

What questionable decisions had Katara made? Zuko wondered what sparked such a hot debate between the Southern Water Tribe members. Was Sokka mad at Katara for working with Zuko? He hardly found that a questionable decision—the two weren’t even allies, they just wanted the same person dead. And what had Sokka done? Where did he run to that made Katara so mad? Zuko had missed a lot.

“So it’s just us and the Fire Nation,” he started as he tried to collect his thoughts, “Any advantage you earned from the interview and your score are gone now. Ozai needs an heir to emerge from the Games, and Zhao can’t risk anything with five of us left. Do you think there’s any possibility Zuko would go back to Ty Lee and Azula at this point?”

“You tell me,” she crossed her arms with a smirk, “You would know if Azula would take him back.” His face fell as soon as she started speaking. Moving on would be harder than it sounded. While Sokka and Katara figured out how to move on and forward together, Zuko couldn’t figure out how to respond from behind the bush. They were talking about him, and he wasn’t going back to his sister.

They’d be stronger if they worked together to defeat her, just as Iroh told him before he left the royal castle. He needed to follow Uncle’s advice more, so he decided to take a chance. “Hello,” Zuko stood up with a gentle wave, trying to project peace, “Zuko here. I, uh, I heard you two talking about me, and thought who better to answer your question, right?”

“What the hell do you want?” Sokka seethed, cursing his luck. He really couldn’t go more than a few hours without the world seeming to crumble down around him again.

“The same thing you want,” he stepped over the bush, “Well, I guess we all want to go home, so that gives us different goals…” He was rambling, he needed to stop. “What I mean, is I want Azula gone too. We’ll be more effective if we attack her together, and then deal with the aftermath once she’s out of the question.”

Sokka turned with a skeptical look toward his sister, “This is what he said to you? Your entire alliance was based on Azula?”

She nodded, “I expect an apology from you.” After a day of trying to explain that her partnership with Zuko was different from Sokka’s involvement with the volunteers, she felt vindicated. Still, she didn’t feel comfortable letting Zuko back into her trust. The wrath he showed on Suki could help defeat Azula, but it would also turn to her brother, and then her. Earlier, it made since to work with him and buy time to figure out how to get rid of him afterward. However, Katara had met more of Zuko since she first made a deal with him. She stepped closer to him, breaking from Sokka, “And from you, I want to know exactly what you’re planning. I’m not confident I can trust you anymore, so start talking.”

Zuko figured this could happen. He thought Sokka would be the one to challenge him, though. He thought he at least generated some credibility with Katara after all the time they had spent together. “Azula is just like my father, if not even crueler. I’m not sure I could beat her in an Agni Kai, so I want us to join forces and attack her tonight.”

Sokka butt in this time, “And then what? You want to be the Fire Lord, and we’re to just step aside for your coronation?”

He stammered, unsure of what to say. Kind of? He couldn’t just tell them that they’d have to fight to the death afterward, and fire beat water and boomerang, but it was the truth.

“Why should we just let you win? If this is the war now, then this is our chance to help the Water Tribe,” Sokka kept his distance, wanting to maintain a calm demeanor so Katara couldn’t criticize him for going too far later, “I’m not just going to sacrifice my life so that the next Fire Lord is less cruel, and you’re stupid if you think we’re just going to support your imperial dreams, Zuko.”

He looked to Katara, confused as to how this conversation got so bad so fast. “Katara,” he stammered, “We have something, don’t we?” He took a step back, feeling claustrophobic from Sokka’s verbal assault, “I mean, all that time in the forest together, you trust me. We’ve worked together this entire game.”

“Yeah,” she unscrewed the canteen on her hip as she spoke, “And then I saw how you kill people. Any Fire Lord is one raised to be brutal, and you’d be no different.” She got a hold on a stream of water as she spoke, ready to act if he kept on this pace.

He wanted to defend himself—Suki killed Mai, Zuko had done nothing unprovoked. “You didn’t have to come with me for that. Katara, you know I’m not like my sister and you can trust me.”

“Just because I can doesn’t mean I should.” She threw the water at his face, freezing it on impact. If she didn’t melt it soon enough, she’d freeze the blood going in and out his brain. This was war.

Sokka didn’t know how to react. Things escalated so fast, and he wasn’t sure if he understood what just happened, “Did you just kill the Fire Nation prince?”

“Give it a minute,” she turned back to face her brother, unable to watch Zuko’s skin tint blue. “Where do we go from here? You know Zhao better than I do, and I don’t think he’ll be cool with us killing an heir.”

“Well,” Sokka paused as the canon went off, “We can’t really turn back. If Ozai wasn’t paying attention already, he is now, and I bet he’ll put pressure on Zhao to make our lives hell.”

“We were already in hell here,” Katara wasn’t sure if she did the right thing. She just killed Zuko, her former ally. He was trying to work together again, and she just—she took the life out of him. She knew she couldn’t turn back, but she tried, and she didn’t know if she wished she acted differently in the moment.

At least Katara and Sokka had each other right now. It was only going to get harder, but they weren’t going into the unknown alone. He put his hand on his sister’s shoulder and pulled her in for a hug. She was closer to getting out of the Arena and going back to Gran-gran’s igloo. All they could do now was kill the next heir.


	30. 30

**30**

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“Well, you killed Zuko.”

“This is war, you’ve said it yourself countless times.”

“Katara, I know how these feelings haunt and eat away at everything in you. You don’t have to put on a brave face right now.”

“I killed our enemy. You killed other victims of the Fire Nation, we’re not necessarily in the same situation.”

“Katara,” his voice fell. He was trying to be there for her, but she threw all of her defenses up and blocked him out following their last encounter.

“That was harsh,” she looked up to meet his eyes, realizing how she hurt his feelings, “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry, Sokka, I know you were trying to help.”

He walled himself off too. The Game was speeding up, and at this rate he expected to die soon. He didn’t really want his last night plagued by snide comments from his sister. Sokka needed to walk her through his plan. He could only go so far with her, and at a certain point her victory was all on her. Not that he doubted Katara’s ability—it was more of a longing for control. He hadn’t felt in control of his own fate since he bludgeoned Jet to death. There were fleeting moments where he felt in charge of his relationship with Ty Lee. However, he now realized that she just let him feel dominant. He needed to get over his shame from his past alliance and work with the information he got from them. “It’s fine. Let’s just focus on what’s ahead.”

“Sokka, we don’t have to rush this,” She knew only one of them could make it out of the Arena. While she understood that basic fact since the Reaping, its gravity was just now starting to bear down on Katara. When they were separated, she knew he was always at a risk of dying. The fear beat against her each day when she didn’t know where she was, and she thought healing could only come from reuniting. Now she sat with her brother and felt worse.

“I’m not going to be unprepared when Ty Lee finds us again.”

“Surely, we have some time to spend together before we have to start planning.”

“Katara, I love you, but we don’t have the privilege to think like that right now,” he tried to push down the guilt that came from such a statement. He also wanted to take a moment before things got out of hand. “You don’t know Azula like I do. I’ve already started an outline for what we can do.”

“She can’t be that bad, right? The blue fire and lightening is terrifying, but I don’t think she’s as scary as they made her out to be in training.”

He deadpanned, unable to comprehend how anyone could give Azula the benefit of the doubt now. He knew Katara and Zuko hid out in a forest for a bit, but did she really miss that much? “Every time I voiced my opinion on anything she threatened to kill me. If Ty Lee wasn’t there, I’m pretty sure I’d already be dead.”

“Sounds like it was really just a ploy to make you more dependent on Ty Lee, if you ask me.”

Sokka stopped. Was he that gullible? Was he just a toy to the two of them, that Azula and Ty Lee would bounce him back and forth from one emotional extreme to the other? He knew she was manipulative, but that almost seemed too far. She had to have cared for him to some extent, he tried to reason, racing his memory through every moment he spent with Ty Lee. As his mind replayed every time her hand lingered by his, every kiss she left on his nose, every time she held him in the dark of night when nothing had gone right that day, he had to force himself to stop. He needed to be ready to kill Ty Lee, and those memories didn’t help.

“Anyway,” Sokka shook his head and restarted his thought process, “I think we need to get on the move once we finalize this plan. The girls don’t know who the last canon was for, and we need to use the element of surprise however we can. Azula wants an Agni Kai, and when she figures out it’s us, we’ll have to deal with her anger.”

“Whether or not we surprise her, it’s not going to take her long to figure out neither of us are Zuko.”

“That’s why we attack before she sees us, I’ll either try to get her out with my boomerang, or you can try to do a big wave if there’s a lot of water nearby.”

She shook her head, there wouldn’t be enough water for anything on that large of a scale. “You can’t kill someone with your boomerang. We’re going to have to get closer for combat.”

Katara didn’t know. Sokka rested his hands, pausing his strategic speech and reverting to a damaged boy who wrestled with who he became this week, “You don’t know?”

“I don’t know what?”

“I didn’t tell you what happened to Jet and Haru,” he avoided saying what _he_ did to them, trying to distance himself from his atrocities still. “I don’t want to get too into it, but I’m good on weapons for this, okay?”

She didn’t ask more.

“So you don’t think you’ll have enough water for a big wave?”

Katara shook her head. The biggest wave she could do would be with leaves, and that wouldn’t do much. She knew other techniques that she could turn lethal, but they all required less water.

“Azula’s worried about you, not me. My bet is she’ll send Ty Lee to block your bending, and either zap me out then or let Ty Lee and I fight after that. Whatever their timing is, if Ty Lee blocks your bending, it’s a trap to slow both of us down. We need to get rid of Ty Lee first, and then it’s just the two of us against Azula.”

After watching how Toph died, Ty Lee’s ability to chi-block haunted them. Sokka knew he’d try to tend to his sister in that moment, which would render both of them sitting ducks. From a distance, he was confident he could fight Ty Lee. However, as he started planning for a closer fight, Sokka wasn’t sure he’d have the strength to attack to kill her. Rationally, he knew she didn’t care about him and was manipulating him throughout it all to get an edge in the Game. But in the moment, it didn’t feel that way, and memory could be stronger than logic sometimes. “We need to move fast, but I think we need to hold off just a few more hours. When Azula kept threatening me, I noticed that her fire was hotter during the daytime than at night.”

Katara nodded along, noting that her water bending felt more powerful at night, especially with the moon out. Their elements must have some sort of a connection to the sun and moon. “I think they’re going into the desert,” she interrupted her brother’s strategic monologue, “After what I did with the trees, they’ll want to fight in the driest place possible. We need to start thinking about where I’m going to get water from for this fight.”

“Before we leave, can you extract water from the plants?” She really only had her canteen, other than that, Sokka didn’t know what to expect. Katara could fish with a spear, she was good at that, but he didn’t have a spear. He had close combat weapons. As he spaced out, trying to envision every possible fight scenario, he realized he still had one of Mai’s knives from when he first helped Suki off of the Cornucopia. Things were so much simpler then, he thought working with Suki could be enjoyable, beneficial, and just positive in every way his Game had not been. He stood up and whacked a long, sturdy branch off a tree with his boomerang, “Do you happen to have any rope on you?”

She knew where his thoughts were going. She stood up and walked closer to Sokka, taking the knife from his hands. Katara unpinned her left hair loopy from her braid, letting it dangle from her forehead as she lined the blade up to her hair tie. Closing her eyes, she sliced through her hair and handed it to Sokka without looking at the cut’s consequences.

“You _were_ most nervous about your loopies not staying in place this week.”

“Make the stupid spear.”

“Who do you bet is left?”

“Probably the boys,” Ty Lee couldn’t bring herself to look at Azula as the two spoke. She’d been so cavalier with Mai’s death, that Ty Lee wished she could distance herself from her old friend. At this point, it probably didn’t matter, but she still hated sitting next to her as they waited on the last two to find them, “Sokka never really told me how well him and Katara knew each other, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he snapped and killed her. Their auroras were awfully dark in the forest.”

“How big is the Southern Water Tribe? Weren’t they like the only teenagers?” She hated how Sokka managed to keep her thinking throughout it all. An ice peasant was not supposed to be the thorn in her side, “I mean they must have had to be friends or something.”

“Well, he really only mentioned her when we were trying to get intel out of him.”

“The Northern Tribe has arranged marriages. Maybe the two of them have some history together, and he didn’t want to talk about his fiancé with you as y’all cuddled.” She spoke with words like daggers, hoping to poke Ty Lee with their blade. Even though Ty Lee took the lead on manipulating Sokka, Azula needed to ensure there were no underlying feelings that could subvert the real alliance.

She shook her head, “No, they aren’t engaged!” Right? She ran through memories of how the two interacted with each other during training. There was no romance between them, which didn’t necessarily contradict Azula’s suggestion, but they didn’t seem close in that way. The way he looked at Yue and Suki confirmed to Ty Lee that he couldn’t be engaged to Katara, “They didn’t have that sort of relationship during training. Plus, you don’t kick water away from your betrothed. My guess is they just grew up together, and the tension between them killed Katara today.”

“You really think Sokka killed the water bender?”

She smirked, letting herself look at Azula like a friend one last time, “I mean, he does have a dark side.”

Sokka looked to Katara. Under the moonlight, the scene almost looked fake. This felt like a dream, no a nightmare, and he had to remind himself of its reality. She could do this. He was ready to fight alongside her until he had to sacrifice himself. The two hammered out variations and variations on a plan, and now deemed themselves prepared for what no one could prepare for.

“Remember when you tried to follow Dad onto the ships as the men left?”

“This feels about the same way as that did.”

She reached her arms around her brother’s neck, hugging him one last time before everything changed. Katara could do this. She didn’t want to accept that her victory meant Sokka’s death, but if only one of them could go back home, she understood the gravity of her existence as the last water bender in the south. If she could defend what the Fire Nation tried to eradicate, she had to do so.

The two broke. Sokka readied his boomerang and moved ahead of Katara. Despite the dark, he could distinguish Ty Lee’s silhouette from Azula’s with ease. He only had the chance to take one out in stealth. Once he threw the boomerang, the real fight would begin, and he had to decide their opponent now. By all logic and reasoning, he knew it would be smarter to whack Azula out right now. But Sokka could also fight her with eye contact; he had no qualms about a death battle with the princess. Ty Lee, however, he didn’t know if he could hold his own if she saw him. Against his better judgement, his heart still skipped a beat whenever he thought of her gray eyes.

He swung the boomerang, aiming for Ty Lee’s neck. In the spirit of his game’s wretched luck, the girl stood up to stretch right as the boomerang was to collide with bone. Instead of snapping her neck, Sokka watched his weapon betray him and hit her hip bone before spiraling back to him. Before he could blink, Ty Lee turned around and began her act once more. Putting on a face of anguish, a woman scorned, she tried to disarm Sokka from his own reasoning skills the way she had done so many times before.

The two stood for a second—her reeling him in, and him convincing himself that none of this was genuine, and even if it was, there was no space for it. Aiming for her neck again, he threw his boomerang before he could forget to keep his defenses up. She evaded the weapon, letting his trusted weapon slide across the red rocks. He didn’t let himself dwell, but instead grabbed his war club and waited for her as she ran toward him. Though Ty Lee normally played defense, with only four people left, she started throwing punches as soon as Sokka was in arm’s reach.

Sokka, on the other hand, played terrible defense. He couldn’t dodge and he couldn’t grab nor deflect her punches. But he could take a hit. Standing firm against her attack, he swung his club at her side whenever he could slide it past her barrage of punches. He slid his foot further out just as she tried to step closer to hit a pressure point. Tripping her, Sokka let Ty Lee fall to the ground. He lodged his foot into her stomach, keeping her on the ground as he towered over her. As he looked down on the writhing volunteer, he couldn’t believe everything the two went through together. He really let a girl complicit, if not active in the Fire Nation’s wrath seduce him. But this was his redemption. He slid the war club back into his weapons bag and grabbed Suki’s sword. Untrained, he couldn’t fit well with it. However, he knew how to make a deep cut.

“Sokka, I know you won’t actually do this,” she said in between coughs. His last kick knocked the wind out of her, but the club’s hits didn’t help her lungs either. “I didn’t mean it; I didn’t want to hurt anyone.” She started to cry, shaking her head as she watched Sokka ignore her plea. She couldn’t get his attention.

He closed his eyes, still uncomfortable with who he became. The boy lifted the blade in a vertical, trusting that Ty Lee wasn’t strong enough to move away within seconds. Bringing the blade down with the full force of his angst, he heard a squirt of blood and then the crack of her spine. With a wince, he pulled the blade back out of her neck, stepping back because of the force. As the canon went off, he opened his eyes to watch Katara throw icicle after icicle toward Azula. She held her own. He’d never seen Katara so strong.

Sokka moved on, following the plan the two agreed on. As Azula focused her energy on Katara, he ran toward the fire bender. He only managed to make a minor cut on her arm, though, before she could pivot and push him back with a gust of fire. He flew back, somersaulting as his weight pushed him over himself. Sokka, accustomed to her flames by now, kept low to the ground, permitting the force of the fire to move him without letting it scorch him.

“It really is quite pathetic that you made it this far,” Azula laughed as she watched the boy tumble. With Sokka down, he made a stagnant target. The girl inhaled, summoning a bolt of lightning in his direction. Katara, keeping her eye on her opponent, guided her water back into the canteen. She stepped closer as Azula focused her wrath on Sokka. The two benders both inhaled, locking their determination on one enemy. As Azula generated lightning, Katara latched onto the blood seeping out of her cut.

Gaining control of her leading arm, Katara pushed Azula’s strike backwards, into the empty desert. Sokka, relieved to watch his plan fall into place, stood up and brushed the red dirt off his stomach. “Kina epic, if you ask me.”

Katara maintained too intense of a focus on Azula to dignify her brother’s comment. She only had access to the one arm, but she could work with that. She pulled Azula upwards by her bicep, throwing her off her balance. Katara wasn’t strong enough to rip Azula from the ground by the blood, but she could still keep her from standing her ground well enough to lightning bend. Without the proper balance, Azula was forced to revert back to plain, albeit blue, fire bending. Azula wasn’t a quitter, no matter how much Katara may try to make her one.

Azula inhaled through her nose, focusing her energy to warm the incoming air, before launching an overwhelming flame through her mouth. She turned her head, sending the fire across Katara and Sokka’s ground. Sokka, petrified that if he let Katara fight her own fight she’d end up like Suki, jumped into the incoming flame to push Katara to the ground with him. He moved fast enough to keep her below Azula’s range, but he left himself victim to the fire. In the moment, he didn’t notice. Sokka associated warmth with fear now, that he honestly couldn’t tell he was in the middle of a fire. However, as Katara pushed him off her and stood back up after the flames cleared, he realized his heart raced faster than ever before. Still, he couldn’t feel the pain. Azula couldn’t hit Katara yet, but she managed to burn the pain receptors off of Sokka.

Katara stood up with a grunt. She only had seconds to get a grip on Azula’s blood before the girl incinerated her. Still, she slowed down in this moment. She needed another port of entry. She grabbed the makeshift spear off her back and lunged to throw it at Azula, not aiming for anything in particular besides her. As Azula stepped sideways, the spear graced her cheek, sliding through just a layer of skin. A poor enough attack to warrant taunts from the princess, but good enough to draw blood to the surface. Katara raised her arms, latching onto the blood in Azula’s arm and cheek. Once she fastened her grip, the girl just pulled. She started draining Azula of all the blood in her, hoping to pull the life straight out of her.

Azula, princess of the strongest nation in the world, and first in line to the throne, could not bleed out while broadcasting across the globe. Her head ached, and she felt weaker with each passing second. Still, a water bender, especially from the South, could not destroy her. Not like this. Azula raised a meek left arm. Observant, Katara pushed her cheek back, blocking Azula from seeing whatever strike she planned. Azula wasn’t aiming for Katara, though. She lit a flame with her index and middle fingers and hovered it over her right arm’s wound. With a wince, she cauterized the cut, sealing it off from Katara’s control. Realizing this strategy, Katara pulled Azula’s face downward, hoping to push her body down before she could heal the other. Not fast enough, Katara could only watch as Azula pushed away her blood grip.

With a renewed bodily autonomy, Azula stretched her arms and walked closer to Katara, “Quite the party trick you got there.” Azula, despite her arrogant demeanor, moved with a new slowness. Whatever confidence she could still project couldn’t change the fact that Katara facilitated massive blood loss. She was ready to destroy the royal blood line. She drew her water out of the canteen once more, pulling all of it out. Katara split the water, creating her octopus arms, even though Sokka cautioned against their predictability. They were strong, and even with a weakened Azula, Katara needed everything possible to win.

“Katara!” Sokka, still insistent that Azula could take advantage of the water arms, yelled as he struggled to regain his balance. He noticed he was bleeding, unsure for how long and how much blood he’d lost. He felt dizzy, a heavy headache setting in as he tried to signal to his sister that she needed to try a different move, one Azula hadn’t seen. She didn’t hear him, though, or she just ignored him—he couldn’t tell. She kept extending the water off of her arms, looking as if she was about to swipe Azula off her feet or something.

Like Sokka, Azula found this move predictable. Typical of a defensive fighter trying to attack as a last resort, she’d watched Katara perfect this during training. She already knew the answer to this problem. Still regaining her strength, Azula struggled to create a cloud of lightning on par with her usual size, but she could still generate a bolt. She inhaled, pointing her fingers right toward the tip of Katara’s water arm. With an exhale, she sent the lightning through the water, into and throughout Katara’s body, letting the water magnify her electricity. Yelling on her way out, Katara jostled as she fell to the ground, her body jumping as she now lay across the red rocks. Sokka ran as fast as he could to her, grabbing her hand as she failed to fight back the lightning bolt electrocuting her insides.

“Katara,” he gripped her hand, unsure how to process everything, “I… I’m so sorry. I couldn’t save you, and I am so sorry, I love you, Katara, please, I know you have more fight in you.”

Azula walked toward the siblings. She placed her foot down across from Sokka right as the canon sounded. “If I’m being honest,” she smirked, as if they were sparring, practicing their bending, not killing each other, “I never thought it would be the two of us left. But I guess it fits the tradition of volunteers facing off. I don’t want to embarrass the South, though, so I’ll hold back on the fire, alright? Sound fair?”

Full of rage, he didn’t give himself any time to comprehend her words. Instead, Sokka flung himself from the ground. He collided with Azula, pushing her back as he body slammed her. He grabbed his war club, ready to bludgeon her just as he did Jet that first night. She stood her ground, though, swinging a roundhouse kick against his forearm before he could strike her.

Unable to process the pain supposedly searing through his body, Sokka kept moving with every kick and punch from Azula. He didn’t know when to stop, so he kept moving. Sokka swung up, giving her whiplash as he threw her head backwards with his club. Suddenly, a flame engulfed his arm. He watched his sleeve catch fire, and then the flames spread down his shirt. It wasn’t until it hit his stomach that his skin received the burning flame, forcing him to step back in self-preservation.

“Oh wait,” Azula kicked his club away as she walked toward him, “I forgot. I don’t play fair.” She grabbed his wrists and hoisted them above his head, holding Sokka captive, “At least you tried in all of this.” With her free hand, she held the blue flame under his chin—the same flame she threatened him with throughout the Game. She warned him from the beginning that she’d punish him for challenging her. Grinning, Azula unclenched her fist, letting the flame fly and swallow Sokka. She didn’t stop her fire until the Fire Nation anthem took the place of his canon.


End file.
